


Memento Mori

by Djinngin



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Child Death, F/M, First Time, How many tags does it take to suggest this is a dark fic with shagging at the end?, I'm not sorry its required for character development, Lots of Angst, M/M, Slow Build, Suicide, Touch-Starved, Violence, explicit scenes is m/m
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinngin/pseuds/Djinngin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember your mortality. Jack meets an unusual Guardian.</p><p>---<br/>This will be updated sporadically, but there is a full story planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Black Mass

The deep black of a non- polluted night welcomed Jack with open arms as he glided across the forest thick town of Huntsville. His popular haunt, the small town within which Jamie and his friends resided had been clear of snow for a few weeks now and although his time when with the group of kids were some of his clearest and happiest memories he knew that his job must sent him more widespread. Once he would never have been in one place more than a few days; far too keen to find other exciting ways of creating mischief and fun. But now he’d found himself planted and comfortable, something he had not felt in many years. He’d said his goodbyes to Jamie and his group and promised a return (although when had not been discussed) and had caught the upsurge of a northerly current as his heart hammered with anticipation. This place was exciting he thought, the tall dark trees collected an abundance of fresh snow, a quick yank with his staff could easily send the whole lot down atop an unsuspecting few people. As the trees grew sparse and opened to the town itself he saw the streets thickening in white as the snow descended, 

“Plenty there to get a snowball fight started” he grinned, planning a vague outline of attack come morning. He swung once around the top of a pine he currently resided, feeling the tickling twist of the needles underfoot before leaping from the pine and rapidly made his way into the town, the sight more exhilarating as he got closer. The town was bigger than the neighbourhood where Jamie lived and all the houses looked as if they had been built decades apart. He could see a road which led up to the main stretch of the town and from that many streets separated into little collections of houses. Even though it was way past midnight a few of the houses which encircled him still flickered with orange lights – reading lights, or for those who could not sleep… nightmares. Jack shuddered thinking; Pitch had been far too quiet, even after the almost absolute defeat of the creature of the dark Jack still knew you couldn’t kill fear. 

He drifted through the larger streets and played with the wind tunnels which ebbed down the narrower alley ways. Craving the light of morning he began making a few minor pranks, freezing car doors and loosely packing snow above front doors in preparation for the adults rush to work. He had located a school freshly covered; Jack knew he’d definitely be coming back here. Time passed faster as the ice boy worked and before long he noticed the changing of the sky – the deep blue turning to a mush of pink, orange and grey – the trademark colour of morning snow clouds. 

“C’moon!” He groaned, “Hurry up!” Jack lazily swung himself on a rusting swing set, the park having seen better days. This would be where he would start, plenty of hiding places to start throwing his favoured snowballs. As his eyes roamed the streets excitement caught in his throat as he noticed a figure walking from behind a house, small and very childlike,

“Yes!” he jumped up and began forming a ball in his hand, looking back up he hesitated losing sight of the girl or boy he’d just spied. Jack frowned, his eyes scanning once again but finding nothing. A quick push to the ground and he was back in the air, searching he flitted through the row of house he was sure the figure had come from.

“Where are you…” his breath came out in puffs of wintery cloud, as if on cue the small form appeared. Jack sped forward, nearly forgetting his stealthy approach he darted to the side and hid against a porch trellis. Seeing the figure closer up made Jack suddenly stop, the thing was dark, black… and covered head to toe in a ragged cloak. With graceful ease the cloaked figure stepped from a balcony window; although Jack could see no limbs or features he could work out the purposeful actions of a body rather than a haphazard movements of material caught in the wind. 

“Pitch…” Jack growled and tightened the grip on his staff; the creator of nightmares was back? But wouldn’t he send his dark mares to tend to his work? Jack had never seen the tormentor do his own work unless threatened. He watched the little black mass land on the street below, pooling before once more reshaping and swiftly making its way into a mass of trees behind the wooden shack houses. Jack surged from his vantage point, frustrated at his hesitance and ready to confront Pitch or whichever of his lackeys had melted into the woodland. A swoop from the nearest street lamp and Jack landed into the confines of the small patch of trees,

“Oi! I know you’re in here!” Jack held his staff at the ready, flitting about the trees and paying careful attention to the darker places that the slowly rising daylight revealed. He slowed his pace, turning in a circle as if the figure was hiding just out of eyes reach, 

“Where did it…” Jack leant against a slender tree, his cheeks slightly pink from the rush. Pitch was up to his old tricks again he was sure of it but the figure itself was small, did that mean that Pitch was still weak? He knew he needed to retreat and hail the other Guardians, ' he can’t return to his previous power' he thought resoloutly. Jack dug his feet into the soft snow and gazed out through the woodland to the town with so much exciting potential. 'I can come back', he told himself trying to beat down the unbridled child inside of him who favoured staying. North was closest, alerting all the Guardians could do more harm than good if this ended up to be a false alarm. He scouted the town one last time making sure the black creature wasn’t still lurking, with a sure nod he took to the wind once more and headed towards North’s domain. 

Jack hummed as the lower temperatures of the north tingled against his skin, the wind rushing by and making his extremities burn with a chilling comfort. He always found a pleasant homely feeling when he came to visit North as the climate was more familiar to him than anywhere else and North always welcomed him; something he never thought he would get used to. He could smell the workshop castle before he entered, wood smoke, pine and sweet spices. He jumped from the wind current to land on one of the many balconies of the workshop, feeling the busied warmth of the rooms inside. The busyness of the place and the amount of bodies at work made it harder for Jack to find the surly bearded Guardian and by the time reached the large studio of the man he felt far warmer than was comfortable. Jack ran a hand through his powder white hair, hating the feeling he got from being an unnatural temperature to what he’d become accustomed with,

“you better be in for all this trouble” Jack huffed, creaking the slightly ajar door open. North was sat in his giant wooden chair, ponderously studying a new invention, “Nor-“ 

“Jaaack!” The giant man beamed as he took sight of the skinny Guardian, leaping from this chair and greeting Jack with a not so accepted bear hug, “You have been gone to long!” North scolded the smile still present. Jack dislodged himself from the older Guardians hold, feeling ruffled as he righted himself,

“Yeah, I know” He righted his hood which had ended up drooping partially off his shoulder, “To many grumpy people these days, so many places to be” Jack grinned hoping his smile would put questions at bay. 

“You are bad liar, Jack” North shook his head, “but, also not coming off the naughty list anytime soon so…” North shrugged before returning to his workspace, “What brings you here child of snow?” the bearded man picked up a well-worn pencil, writing down a few notes which Jack hoped had nothing to do with him. 

“Um… I think Pitch is back” Jack came closer to the large bench, resting his hands against the varnished wood and absently started toying with a small metal car. North stopped his writings and looked at Jack with a serious stare,

“Impossible” North’s blunt response took Jack by surprise, Pitch had left a horrible memory in all of their minds but North was the last Guardian Jack thought would show it, “What makes you think you have seen that kretin, Jack?” the younger Guardian thought back to the black mass, something that looked like it should have come from nightmares,  
“I saw him, in Huntsville…” Jack suddenly felt foolish, as if telling North was admitting weakness; in the state Pitch was in Jack could have dealt with him there and then. But the Guardians had showed him that team work could be more powerful than working alone, “He was coming out of a window, I ran after him but when I caught up he was gone” North listened, leaning over his work bench and habitually ran a hand through his wiry beard,

“Pitch sends his mares to do his work, he does not go alone” North grumbled, “Too cowardly” 

“I know that” Jack frowned feeling that he was being talked down to, “But it couldn’t have been anything else, it was so black, like coals…” to his surprise North seemed to perk up at the mention of colour,

“What did this thing look like exactly?” North watched as Jack moved away from the table, idly fiddling with his staff as he paced,

“It didn’t really have a shape; it looked like a body covered in a black bag. When it landed the blackness turned into a cloak” he tried to recount the features but couldn't, “I never saw a face… or an arm or a foot or anything! It just was black” he sighed frustrated, passing his staff between his hands agitatedly. North chuckled from his chair the noise made Jack bite back an insult,

“I know what you saw… and it was not Pitch” North’s bright eyes softened again as he noticed Jack visibly relax “That was Death”. 

“Tha-that… what?” it was the last thing that Jack thought North would ever say, the giant of a man laughed deeply at Jacks loss of words,

“What you saw was Death, it is not hard concept” North went back to briefly jotting down notes, occasionally turning the current bauble he had in his hand. The younger Guardian rubbed the back of his pale neck, confused and enlightened at the same time,

“Deaths a Guardian?” it was the only question he thought to ask, 

“Mmm…” North put the bauble down and stroked his beard, thinking, “Not so much, but there isn’t a word I can think of otherwise….” North paused, “So yes, Death is a Guardian... although no oath has been made if memory recalls” with that he got up, moving over to a nearby table filled with various trinkets and objects, amongst which was a full pot of hot chocolate with which North poured a cup. He offered to Jack who was currently still thick within his thoughts, 

“Jack?” he gestured towards the teapot and set of cups as the boy jumped from his name,

“No… no thanks” ‘a new guardian’ Jack thought, excitement bubbling in his stomach. His frown which had until just then transfixed upon his pale face disappeared, replaced with a hopeful grin, “So which side are they on?” Jack hoped that a new friendship was within his reach, being alone for so many years had made him yearn more discoveries, more relationships,

“Death has no side” North replied, taking a gulp from his hearty mug he looked up to see the familiar glint in Jacks eyes, “Jack…” the boy looked down from his wonderings, eagerly gripping his staff, “you do not make friends with this Guardian”

“What!? Why not?” Jacks frown was back, he hated being told what to do – even by North,

“It is not good and it will not bring you anything but trouble” North replied flatly,

“Hey I make trouble, it’ll be no problem” Jack retorted confidently, twirling his staff,

“It is not your kind of trouble it will make” North could see the words in Jacks mouth before he even said them, he held up a hand to hush the boy, “Do not go near Death Jack”.


	2. Little Death.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death is not what Jack expected.

Jack lay against an old slated roof somewhere just outside of Calais, he kicked his heels against the guttering and felt left over slush dribble down his heels. It had been a few months since his first sighting of Death and the sub sequential discussion he’d had with North. Jack couldn’t understand how confronting this Guardian was any different to the others, would Death be like Pitch? Is that why North didn’t want Jack speaking to it? Luckily for North Jack hadn’t seen anything more of the strange black figure, whether he’d been purposefully looking for it or not; not that he had. He raised himself up onto his elbows, looking up at the crisp clear sky – the snow had already been and gone leaving a crystalline land that glittered against the moons light. A sigh escaped the ice boy’s lungs and he came to the conclusion that this place was decidedly boring,

“There must be some better places around here” He used his staff to stand, hooking it over his shoulder once upright. He kicked a pile of snow from the roof which landed on a wandering cow below, the startled noise made Jack snicker as he leapt up into the nearest wind current. 

The next village he happened across looked like he’d stepped back in time; the houses made of large brick and shuttered windows. The roofs in some cases were thatched while others had completely rebuilt them to resemble more modern tiled variations. He landed atop an old phone box which shuddered a little at the unfamiliar extra weight. The sun was testing the horizon and Jack felt the nearing of morning light - soon he could have his fun. From the corner of his eye he noticed movement, someone waking for their early morning commute he supposed, however upon looking more fully his chest knotted at the memorable dark cloak,

“Death…” Jack whispered under his breath, suddenly tensing at the remembrance of North’s words. He huffed under his breath and simply decided to watch, the small black figure almost appeared to skip, “Doesn’t look that dangerous…” he crept closer, hoping to get a better look but without being seen himself. He could tell that the figure was a lot smaller than he as it darted round a corner he moved closer. Jack waited before turning the corner, hoping the distance between them would provide enough time to disappear on the wind if things became heated. A few seconds wait and Jack was round the corner however Death was not, the boy grumbled at the creature’s second disappearing act. The animosity of the newly discovered Guardian only made Jack want to confront it more. 

In the coming months Jack tried to hunt down the mysterious Guardian, although he had no idea how he could start his hunt when the being had practically the whole world to wander. He began at hospitals, watching from the rooftops at people coming and going until he got far too bored; he was the Guardian of fun, sitting on rooftops for days was not fun. He wandered in cemeteries, a much better place to spy and play at the same time. Throwing snowballs and creating snow flurries was much more exciting when people were in cemeteries, he’d been called a poltergeist on several occasions. However the times in which Jack did happen upon Death it was when he wasn’t looking for it. Instead it would be when he was preparing for a fun filled snow day or concocting his trademark pranks. One of these times was when he was in a tightly nestled village in Scotland, the being had nearly given Jack a heart attack when it’s now cumbersome figure rounded a pharmacy and made its way up the stairs of an apartment above the local butchers. Its gate was similar to that of North’s and it seemed to have developed a hunch. Jack would have thought it just a wandering drunk except for the strange all-encompassing darkness of the cloak. 

“You’ve changed” Jack remarked, noticing now that the creature was way over six feet, nearing seven. He clearly remembered the other times Death being small in stature, why was this one different? Once again he followed the black figure until it faded away in a shadow, seemingly finished in its task. Jack stayed near the area for a while, wondering if it would come back; it never did. The next time Jack spied the creature was in a coastal town of Russia, somewhere Jack loved to go because of the bitter winds churned by the sea and the pink cheeked little children that never seemed to tire from play. Death had emerged from the side gate of a farm which Jack knew held an elderly couple. He gulped at the prospect of one of them being taken by the intimidating mass. Jack was more careful about his investigations, hiding far back, high up and facing the direction of the moon. He took note that again the being had changed shape this time more around his height but petite in build, he could have considered it female. Death easily slid through the gate of the farm and took towards the long road. This time Jack would see where it went; there were no tight alley ways and no dark shaded spaces this out in the open. Death was walking towards the direction of the moon however it cast no shadow and whatever light the moon provided was being swallowed up by the black. He was curious as to whether this was a creation of Pitch, some of the traits seemed far too similar. He kept his eyes closely locked onto the creature and started down from above the rusting barn roof but within a blink of his eyes the black figure had disappeared,

“What the?” Jack blinked again and rubbed his eyes before quickly flying over to where he’d assumed the form would have been. He looked down at the softly snow covered field which appeared untouched apart from small scratches of birds feet, this Guardian was seriously becoming more frustrating than fun, “Next time I see you, I’ll get you”. 

Jack’s promise came to fruition a lot sooner than he had expected. It only took a week before the creature appeared once again – this time back in his original discovery of the Guardian, Huntsville. Jack was unprepared for the appearance as up until that point he went months without seeing the black figure. The children were still out and way past their bedtime making snow forts and throwing haphazardly sized snowballs at one another. Jack had started it, obviously and was in the middle of aiming a perfectly round snowball at one of the older kids when the thick shadow passed some ways behind the spotty teenager he’d targeted. Snowball all but forgotten he lightly charged up his staff and chased after the black form. It was a lot darker this time and so Jack found it harder to work out what was actually shadow and what may be Death. He climbed up to the top of a street lamp and spied the figure which had now taken pace, Jack quickly rushed down; he wouldn’t let the thing outrun him this time. He cursed to himself at the lack of a breeze; his plan of using the currents to hide his footsteps was useless. Adrenaline surged within, finally he’d be able to confront this strange new being whether the other Guardians approved or not he didn’t care. 

Death, he noticed, was smaller now and as Jack got closer he could just about make out the formation of limbs underneath the cloak. He was so close a few feet perhaps and no more, it felt exhilarating to be this close to something which had confused and enticed him for so many months. He was ready to make his presence known when a white flurry of movement emerged from the black cloak, instinctively Jack blocked with his staff, the contact of the object sending a skittering of ice spiralling from the tip of the rod. What hit it looked very similar to his own gnarled familiar staff however this one radiated an odd sensation that made Jack move away, it felt similar to the fear which the Nightmare King exuded but laced with what he could only describe as a heavy sedative sensation. He landed on bare feet, ready to fight and looked to the attacker whom he could only assume was Death but where he expected a horrific, skeletal face or something akin to that of Pitch’s features he instead saw the face of a young girl. Her skin was pale as the moon and vacant of any blush or freckle, her hair the colour of corn flour. The girls eyes unnerved Jack the most, black as obsidian and empty with deep circles underneath. 

“You’ve been following me” the girl said flatly and for once Jack was speechless as all his ponderings of this encounter flew out the window, “What do you want?” the girl asked, her tone neutral,

“I-I… you're Death” Jack blurted suddenly feeling foolish. The child stepped back and out of her original defensive stance,

“And you are Jack Frost, Guardian of Mischief” Jack blinked dumfounded,

“You know me?” He watched the small girl pad from in front of him to his side as if she were sizing him up,

“Of course I know you… I knew who you were before you started stalking me” The end of her sentence lilted a little, accusatory. Jack blushed; he didn’t stalk little girls,

“I wasn’t stalking you” he turned to face Death, who had now ended up behind him still inquisitively taking in his form. He held his staff outward ready to take stance if the little girl ended up turning violent,

“Then what were you doing? It looked a lot like stalking to me” Jack saw the slight quirk of her lips, was she playing with him?

“I wanted to know who you were, don’t see to many other spirits around these days” he grinned hesitantly, the girl raised an eyebrow and moved closer making Jack panic silently,

“North told you who I was many moons ago” she stepped closer once more, testing, Jack wasn’t sure he liked her fun, “North told you I was trouble…” he realised then what she was saying,

“You were there?” the proximity forgotten he shot her a suspicious glance, “You’ve been following me too haven’t you” he dared a jab at the girl with his staff, the icy surface contacting soft velvet like material. Surprisingly to Jack she didn’t respond, at all, just continued her unblinking gaze at him as her body gently rocked from the pressure of his staff.

“No Jack Frost, I do not spend my time spying on others” She softly batted the icy rod away, it felt unusually heavy in Jacks hold, “Like the others I have my resources and they are everywhere and so I am aware of everything” Jack didn’t quite understand but Death did not give him time to query, “I’ll ask again Jack Frost what do you want?” her eyes focused solely on him. Jack found it slightly ironic to be so near death and yet all he felt was a slight tightening in his chest from the adrenaline. He remembered being in the company of Pitch and the dread that created. He passed the thought quickly away from this mind.

“Weeell… I did know why, but now I don’t” he noticed the incredulous look on Deaths face, he half expected with that confession that she’d be on her way however there she was mere inches from him , “You want to play?” he inwardly grinned as the question took the small girl off guard, the change was small but Jack noticed it. 

“I haven’t played in a very long time Jack Frost” Death changed again, the stiffness turning into a hesitance more becoming of her appearance. Jack gave a fierce grin his stomach sprouting butterflies at the prospect of a new play mate – he could show her so many new things. How long was a long time? Did she know about merry go rounds and traffic lights? 

“Then come play with me!” he gestured, moving towards the main road where had originally been playing, “Just this one time okay? Then you can go back to being all spooky” Jack watched the cogs turning in the girls head. Her response was a tread forward her bare feet crunching in the gritty snow underfoot,

“Seems we have a deal” Jack laughed and kicked himself up into the wintery breeze, “I’ll race you to the playground ok? It’s on the other side of town” Jack waved off in the direction of the park, “you’ll see the helter skelter before you get there, that’s our finish line” Death gave the slightest nod and knocked her staff three times, Jack frowned in confusion floating on the undercurrent before the spindly staff began to hover. With ease Death hopped up onto the long twisted weapon and lazily surfed a few circles before looking back up Jack, “That is so so cool” Jack complimented, admiring Deaths self-made surfboard,

“This is not its general purpose, but I hardly see flight versus on foot fair” with little effort the staff raised and Death levelled slightly below Jacks stance in the air,

“Aaaw, and here I hoped I could leave you in the dust” he caught the warning glare of the dark creature next to him and it hit him with a thrill. He’d not had a play mate like this in centuries. Jamie had been a welcome kindness and a friend he could count on, someone who truly believed in him. But he knew that soon his human friend would grow, the fear of that crept into his thoughts all too often. But Death was immortal like him. Jack called the countdown readying himself for a full on race while Death appeared eerily calm. Upon the word ‘Go!’ Jack was off, picking up the strongest surges of wind and using them to his advantage. The heady chill was exhilarating, the stinging frost making his blood sing. He watched below him as Death stayed lower to the ground, flitting through the streets like a formless dark horse. 

“Dammit she’s fast!” Jack gritted his teeth and picked up his own speed, he’d underestimated the younger looking girl. He pulled his staff closer to his body; the trails of frost creeping from his hand broke off as he surged forward acting like a vapour trail. Death was now levelling with Jack and worryingly overtaking him. Her stance on the pole unnervingly relaxed in comparison to the amount of speed she was picking up,

“What’s wrong Trickster? Can’t keep up with an old soul like me?” Her voice glided on the airwaves and made tinny by the whipping of the wind between them. Jack growled his competitive streak revealing itself,

“Yeah right, I was going easy on you! Catch me if you can” His power danced and keened against the rushing stream of air, he’d not felt this true to his form in decades. He looked back, the black flurry of Death getting smaller as he sped up, winding through the larger buildings which indicated the centre of town, he was so close! He let out a whoop of victory as he spied the top of the helter skelter, its single blue light indicating the centre. A sudden gasp escaped his mouth as much like on that hill in Russia Death appeared at the top of the helter skelter in a blink. Jack had to forcibly stop himself to avoid crashing into her. He managed to halt only a few feet away, his competitive nature riled as the little girl gave a slight wave,

“You cheated!” Jack hovered away from her, feeling the waves of excess zephyr catch up to him cooling his temper. It had been a very long time since he’d lost a race like that, even North had trouble keeping up with him at times. 

“Did I?” Death tilted her head slightly giving Jack a bemused but testing glance. Her eyes followed him as he landed heavily on the metal dome of the playground construction,

“Yes you did!” He circled her as if checking for strings or a magician’s wand, “You did that freaky teleporting thing again” Jack knew of North’s orbs and the giant rabbits endless tunnels and experienced them first hand, it was no surprise that Death would have her own way of getting about.

“Teleporting?” Death looked genuinely amused at the mention, “No Jack. I don’t teleport” Jack huffed, disbelieving,

“So what was that you just did? If reappearing out of thin air is suddenly not teleporting” he stopped his circling and stood in front of her once again, arms folded and still feeling the frustration of having lost,

“I fly just like you Jack; I’m just faster than you. I’ve had a lot longer time to practise” Deaths eyes were suddenly off of Jack and onto the ivory staff in her hand, she picked at it like it would peel. Jack sensed a feeling of melancholy wash over him radiating from Death. He didn’t quip back even though he desperately wanted to have the upper hand. Instead he watched the small girl in front of him drift off, her thoughts lost somewhere he didn’t know. The look was very familiar to him, it was the look a child had when remembering a beloved lost toy or a memory of a friend no longer there. Jack wasn’t very good with sadness, other peoples more specifically. Although he’d felt it at many occasions he’d always dealt with it in his own way, the only way he knew how – fun. 

Death gave an uncharacteristic yelp as a wet, powdery snowball collided with her face. She recoiled covering her face with her hands, when she looked back up she saw Jack wearing a childish grin and holding another snowball at the ready,

“What was that for?!” the girl barked, rubbing at her nose,

“You’d been gone for a while, nothing like a snowball to get someone back to the real world” He readied the icy sphere in hand, gave it one slight throw up before hurtling it toward Death. The girl yelled once more and instinctively swung out her staff, the curved end smacking the snowball with surprising force. The two spirits watched mouths agape as the small ball flew into the trees nearby and out of sight,

“Guessing your sticks not meant for that either?” Jack mumbled, unsure of whether to be impressed or intimidated by Deaths strength and accidental accuracy. He looked back to see Death no longer next to him, instinctively he jumped to the air a slight panic amassing in his chest that his new friend had taken his gesture the wrong way. He was about to shout out before a thwap to the head brought snow tumbling down his fringe and left a wonderfully numb sensation to the side of his head. He twisted around quickly and beamed a ridiculously happy smile at the sight of Death below him, knee deep in snow and a small snowball in hand, 

“Apologies for the stealthy approach” Deaths voice sang out in the cold winter night, “But in matters of fun and games you are indeed the expert, I had to get the upper hand some way” Death gave a toothy grin, even from this distance Jack could tell the girl had a tooth missing, had Toothiana taken it? His thoughts came back to the present just as the next snowball was thrown his way; Jack narrowly missed it leaping further into the sky. The adrenaline pulsed once more in his veins and tendrils or ice ran up and down his wooden staff,

“Master of fun and games at your service” Jack shouted, arms open wide in exaggeration, “Now let me show you how it’s done!”


	3. Fear Of Change

Jack and Death lay in the snow underneath the shadow of the looming helter skelter. The playground had been an endless plain of chasing and hide and seek that had lasted for hours. The little mix of his own playful magic contained in the snowballs had affected Death in a weird way… to be honest he wasn’t sure whether it had affected her or not. While Jack contained himself within his own well practised method of play – launching snow at high speed and creating walls of ice to defend himself from the received attacks – Death seemed to have a completely different type of play. It was wavering and unpredictable. The childlike wonderment which he was used to seeing would switch suddenly to a coy and hesitant change of pace, almost like her body was fighting with the magic Jack possessed. He wondered if she was aware of it, was the hesitance embarrassment or indecision? It was one of the weirdest snowball fights he’d ever been a part of.

Jack turned to look at the girl in black and watched her eyes dart around watching the stars. Her mouth was slightly parted but oddly no puffs of heated air escaped. He’d never considered that Death wouldn’t breathe and she suddenly looked more of a shell than an actual moving spirit. At that point Jack felt a pang of worry,

“Ever had this much fun before?” He questioned, trying to hide the anxious twinge. Death lolled her head to face Jack, his worry dissipating instantly,

“If I have, I can’t remember it” she returned her gaze back to the stars. The boy spirit stretched out making an oddly shaped snow angel before swaying himself up. He felt the damp of frosty snow on his back, clinging. He leaned his palms into the chill earth underneath and lazily rested his head back his eyes focusing on the pale white moon above – a question formed on his tongue.

“When did the moon choose you?” He turned his head to Death whose eyes sprang wider from their original drifting ease.

“A very long time ago…” she said flatly,

“How long ago?” Jack pushed unsatisfied,

“When did the first man breathe his last?” Death replied, her tone as if she’d recited those words to many. Jack paused, his current lifetime of three hundred and eighteen becoming somewhat miniscule.

“You came for me then?” Jack muttered the words as the memory of his death gave him unwanted gooseflesh,

“I did” Death pushed herself up from the cold snow and took to sitting on her haunches, “But the moon would not let me take you” she circled her staff in the snow before her, making odd patterns, “he thought you special… as did he the others”

“You mean the Guardians? Even…” Jack bit back the name,

“Yes even Pitch Black” Death gave Jack a knowing look, feeling his uneasiness “Although he and Sanderson never entered my grasp – I never witnessed their life’s end. They appeared one day and they became commonplace… sometimes I wonder where they came from”.

“When I first saw you I thought you were Pitch, maybe one of his freaky goons” Jack stretched his feet out and under the snow and watched the patterns being made by Death, she gave a breathy chuckle,

“I can see how that assumption could be made; you are not the first to say it. I suppose in some ways Pitch Black and I are similar. I do create fear… dread but that’s not what I take and that’s not what I need” her ministrations against the snow never faltered although Jack could feel something peculiar in the air, her power?

“What do you-“

“Life, Jack Frost” Deaths gaze hardened and faltered her motions in the snow. Jack gulped at the first hint of danger in the little girl,

  
“Yeah but-“

“I can play with you in the snow for as long as you wish if it would make me appear any less than what I am Jack Frost. But I am Death and I am the end of all things. I take all into me, insects, animals and humans, young and old” Jack watched Deaths eyes suddenly become animated, a disturbing change to how she had been before, the girl had moved closer into Jacks personal space and he slid back grasping his staff at the last minute “I took your mother and father, I took your sister and I very nearly took you!” The words stung and made the barest tear prick at his eyes,

“Hey!” Jacks shout seemed to stun Death out of her rant and he reached out to steady her. Within a flash Death recoiled and moved away from his hand looking at both the boy spirit and his hand as if they were mutant objects. The two stayed frozen in place, Jack knelt slightly upright his hand still outstretched to Death whom lay in her ragged cloak like a safety blanket.

“I’m sorry” Death said calmly after what seemed like too longer a silence, “I am not used to company”, Jack moved from his position on the ground - his legs cramping,

“… It’s cool” his signature smile covered up the wounds that Death had unknowingly poked with a knife, “Not everyone likes talking about their job after hours” Death blinked at that and Jack assumed she was waiting for him to run off,

“I’m always working” she responded curtly, scrunching her fingers up into the unusual material of her cloak,

“But your with me right now” Jack titled his head perplexed,

“As I said before, I have my own little minions to help” Death almost floated to stand the movement far to fluid – it reminded Jack of his own method of movement, “But… I’d rather do it myself”

“Guess I’ve saved some lives then, keeping you here throwing snowballs” Jack joked, biting his lip awkwardly as Death shot him a warning glance,

“Sorry Jack Frost not this time” she looked up at him through some blonde curls which had come loose,

“Just call me Jack ok? You sound far too proper calling me by my full name all the time” he snickered, kicking up some snow, “You really aren’t used to company”. The girl nodded, wincing slightly at the last remark but taking no ill will from it. Death turned and looked to the moon, a sigh escaped her – something that Jack found odd considering she didn’t appear to breath,

“I’ve stayed from my duties far too long” her voice turned into a purr as she looked back to the younger spirit, “You are a welcome distraction, Jack”. He grinned at the application of his name, his heart stuttered a little at the soothing way she said it – as if his name were a happy memory for her. He looked up to see the small girl a few more feet away,

“Hey! Wait…” Jack stumbled after her coming in close. Death backed off a little and wariness appeared in her eyes similar to before. He felt a bit hurt by her avoidance of him but brushed it off – perhaps she just felt guilty for her actions earlier.

“I wanted to know…” He paused, the words clinging at the back of his mouth, “I want to see how you do things” Death perked at his words, a genuine expression of intrigue on her face,

“You wish to see me at work?” She looked up at the frost spirit with wonder, but the childish curiosity towards his words faded fast “My work is dark… No” she turned to head off but was stopped again by the rush of wind and Jacks taller form in front of her once again, “Persistent sprite” she muttered,

“Please? I’ve helped all the other Guardians I know” she noted the pleading look in his eyes,

“My work is not like the others” her gaze held with his and she could tell that he would not let her leave until she gave him the answer he wanted, “…very well”. The boy leapt in front of her, airborne within the second. She watched the unusual result of her response, Jack laughing and twisting within the zephyr stream.

“Right, where are we going?” Jack quizzed animatedly as he floated back down, Death shook her head bringing a frown upon the pale sprites features,

“Not this time” she reasoned, waiting for Jack to ground himself before continuing, “It is not a good time”,

“When?” Jack asked tersely, not liking the vagueness in her response.

“Soon” she readjusted her hood as she spoke, “you waited six months to talk to me Jack, what’s a little longer?” she gave Jack a final smile to reassure “You showed me how you work so in return I will grant your request… you just need to be patient”. Jacks shoulders slumped, disappointment obvious,

“Alright… Don’t forget about me ok?” He’d meant it in jest, but as the thought clung in his mind the worry became genuine. Death had such a huge job; people died all the time right? What was one frost sprite compared to the magnitude of people in the world,

“Don’t worry Jack I will not forget you… how could I?” the words drifted on the airwaves as Jack watched her disappear before him, the only evidence of her ever being there shown in the upturned snow. He sighed to himself, wandering a while in the park before carrying himself off on the wind channels. The chill current cleared his head and the cloying anxiety of once again being alone in the dark of night was swept away – replaced by memories of him and Death playing in the snow. He allowed the rush of air to take him where it wanted and wished to the moon that it would not be too long before his chance to meet with Death came again.

 

It was mid-November the next time Jack happened upon Death. It had been almost three months since his initial introduction with the antisocial sprite and Jack was starting to wonder that given Deaths hesitance at Jacks assistance the Guardian may have been avoiding him altogether. Jack had found his way back to Jamie’s hometown, the presence of snow storms tempting him back as well as the faces of his new found friends. Upon his arrival Jamie had never left his side except to sleep and eat and the ice spirit soared within the powerful sensation of being believed in. The excitement of sledge races and snowball fights had lasted well into the twilight hours during the last few days of his company so much so that Jack found himself tired. Currently positioned high above the ground within one of the many naked trees surrounding the town he enjoyed the after burn of the nights events. He swung his staff below him, letting wisp like trails of ice feather out from the tip.

“I wonder if there are any drunks out” Jack pondered, feeling a mischievous grin cross his lips. Drunkards were so much more entertaining on icy surfaces and with Jamie safely tucked up in bed he’d have to find his own fun for a few hours. Slipping himself of the thick branch he swept himself back into town.

Jamie’s town was pretty much oriented towards the family than the single individual and so only a few bars were scattered through the commercial district of the small settlement. However Jack was far too familiar with how humans behaved to know that at least a few parents needed to whet their whistle to unhealthy levels at one time or another. Flitting through the shopping district Jack frowned to see the place practically empty; midnight on a school night was obviously not good for business. Turning his heels to return back to his new found lookout point Jack’s heart skipped at the sight of an unnatural black mass, Death. The figure was in the distance; crossing a sidewalk in the direction of the cluster of houses he knew Jamie lived in. Jack would’ve considered the quick paced figure just another townie returning home but he could feel the waves of unsettling power, even with as big a bridge of space between them. He wrinkled his nose, frustrated that Death for all intent and purpose had forgotten about him. Batting the thought away he returned to the air and shot in the direction of the dark figure. Yet again the black mass had already darted around a corner when Jack got close, he growled at the act – intentional or not it was an annoying trait of the dark spirit. This time however Death was still there when Jack rounded the building, makings its way into a darkened alley way,

“Hey Dea-!” Jack stopped in his tracks as the creature turned around at the sound of his yell. Jack gawped momentarily stunned, it wasn’t Death, it wasn’t _his_ Death. This Death was older, taller and wearier looking that the previous small and delicate girl he’d met before. This Death was also most definitely male; a wiry grey and patchy white beard tumbled down from under his nose – Jack wondered how much of it was nose hair. His skin was the colour of pale tan and had a leathery weather worn look to it. Jack was ready to turn around and fly back to his tree, this wasn’t his Death and it didn’t look like it wanted to play anytime soon. The air current called to him and he moved to answer but a deep, rough voice stopped him,

“Hello Jack” he gulped in autumn air as the leathery face became animated; he could make out a smile under the overgrown beard,

“You know my name?” Jack blurted, suddenly feeling foolish,

“Of course I know your name” Death turned fully to face the younger spirit, revealing the long and spindly staff held in his left hand. For some reason unknown to Jack (probably his terrible attention span) he hadn’t taken in the full appearance of Deaths staff until now. He could only assume the pole was made of wood but it had an odd powdery appearance as if it may crumble at any time, it reminded him of cinders. It was gnarled and winded around and within itself, cascading down and darkening in colour at the base. At the top the staff split in two, one half bending up and round to resemble a shepherd’s rod much like his own. But the second part formed a spiral in the middle; tightly wound with just a few millimetres in-between the rounds. It was an odd staff Jack decided, his eyes wandered back to the old tired face in front of him,

“Death?” his mind had already come to the conclusion that this was indeed Death, but where was the little girl? His friend?

“Would you think me someone else? This tattered old garb and poking stick not enough to convince you?” Death waved his staff and tugged at his cloak for emphasis and Jack was sure he saw an odd feathering at the pull,

“Ok… I guess you couldn’t be anyone else” Jack studied the figure before him; “Unless you’re really late for Halloween or something” he still couldn’t shake his feeling of anxiety, “what happened to…”

“The little girl you met?” Death completed for him, “I guess I can’t really explain my changes due to hormones or the like” he fiddled at his beard, seemingly intrigued by it as much as Jack was,

“Yeah… not many little girls grow up into geriatric old men within _three months_ these days” he emphasised the timespan heavily as he spoke, hoping Death would acknowledge his unhappiness at waiting for so long. It seemed that the old man did,

“I apologise for my absence… I cannot explain it, but as you know death is rather frequent. It’s lucky that you happened to catch me” Death looked genuinely apologetic and Jack found the increase of animation within the old Deaths face comforting. The little girl may have been more to what he was accustomed to but her lack of facial expression had left him uneasy. Maybe it was the wrinkles across his cheeks or the fact that his eyes - irises still black and lacking in light – required more expression due to a hidden mouth.

“Jack” Deaths expression suddenly became serious, a stark contrast from a moment ago, “If I remember correctly you wanted to…” Death paused, testing the words on his tongue, “Watch me at work” the remembrance of his request made Jacks heart swell with excitement,

“Hell yeah I do!” the young frost spirit kicked up into the air, laughing with childish glee. Death watched from below his expression showing nothing of what was whirring behind those dark eyes. Jack hugged his sides, feeling his body brimming with new found anticipation of a new adventure, “You’re not gonna like, ditch me right?” his body lowered slightly in the air current, suggesting his slight concern,

“Of course not, I promised you this – I just hope you have a strong resolve” Jack frowned at the comment. He had been so far from death for so many decades that he’d not thought about witnessing another experience it. He’d never been there for the deaths of his parents or his sister, a part of him regretted it, but at the time he had been unaware of their very existance. It was only upon being reunited with his memories he realised how many times he'd passed them by. Whats more up until recently he’d had no one to love and in turn no one to miss or grieve; and Jamie was far too young to be threatened by death, wasn’t he? The wonderment of something new and different had put the actual finality of death and the emotions that came with it in the shadows of his mind. He gulped and nodded his surety, the magnitude of what he’d requested finally sinking in.

“We must take to the air, our reunion has taken up too much time” Death noted, whether he’d seen Jacks unease or not he didn’t show it. The two spirits took off into the sky silently and Jack wondered where Death would take him.


	4. She See's Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated this a bit, when i first submitted it i think it was around 3am and my brain didn't have the energy for checking it through. So theres some additions etc.

The short journey was quiet; Jack pondering the possibilities of Deaths ‘work’ made him unusually silent and the old man didn’t seem to mind the subdued atmosphere. Death tested Jacks pace unsure of how fast the ice spirit was in comparison. The dark creature was used to speeding across earth in nary a blink but something told him this was not the case for Jack and so he kept in check of the boys speed, hoping that instinct didn’t take over. They shortly came across the house which Death had been searching for, Jack noticed the lowering in Deaths flight and curbed against the cold winds hoping to match the speed of descent. Death didn’t seem to move via wind, Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he flew or what he used because the movement was far too smooth, maybe he was hiding wings like Tooth’s under that massive cloak. He knew Death was holding back on speed, he remembered the race those few months ago and how the small black fury had reappeared within a blink of an eye. The pace was still fast, Jack never shy of a little adrenaline and he felt small icy tears leak from his eyes as the chill wind enveloped his skin. He could tell the older spirit wished for his normal haste and envied the ungodly speed but his heart fluttered at the show of discipline on his behalf – he didn’t think he’d be able to show the same level of self-control if a chance arose. 

There was a small cottage looking house below that Death appeared to be zeroing in on. The walls were being slowly covered by creeping ivy that stood the test of winter as its evergreen colour glowed against the moon. Jack noticed there were no lights on and the garden didn’t appear to have been tended to in weeks, as they got closer he could see a worn plaque which read ‘Sleepy Tree’s Cottage’ he grinned in amusement. 

“So this is the place?” Jack asked as they landed, Death a little smoother than Jack who had to make up for the sudden lack of wind. Death nodded, surveying the cottage briefly,

“I believe so” He turned to Jack, noticing how the anxiety from before was now replaced with curiosity, “Jack” the boy perked at his name, eyes darting back to Death, “From here, you must do exactly as I tell you” Jack stiffened slightly, his eyes opening a little wider with the raise of his eyebrows,

“Oook” he replied, a little bit taken aback by Deaths sudden strictness.

“I have seen how you are” Death turned fully to face Jack, “But this is sensitive business with which you include yourself in” Those eyes animated once more and it gave Jack the chills, “Things may happen and you may not agree and you may be scared of. But you must let things go their course and let me do my work, understood?” 

“Yes…” he eyed Death warily suddenly unsure of himself. Death nodded, seemingly satisfied with Jacks short response and proceeded towards the house. 

Once inside Jack caught the immediate scent of medicinal supplies and bleach combined with ginger and he was unable to describe that combination as anything but off. He followed the lumbering form of Death, his eyes wandering about the small, cluttered dwelling, remembering why he rarely ventured into people’s homes; it was all to confined. The first thing that struck him was the amount of boxes that lined the walls, the contents labelled carefully with paper and black ink. Off to the right was an open door and when he peered in he noticed more boxes however these were not labelled and to the back were piles of newspapers with jars of pennies on top. The frost spirit jumped as he heard the jangling of metal and before them appeared a small dog, its fur thick and sticking up in various directions. The dog sniffed the air and Jack hoped the dumb thing wouldn’t bark, although the chances of being seen were practically in their favour he assumed that Deaths work would be a lot more difficult if the person he’d come for was chasing after the dog. Death, apparently none phased by the inquisitive dog strode past it – avoiding it – Jack pondered, well who’d have thought Death be scared of dogs, he grinned and followed the dark figure further into the house. The dog followed the spirits movement with his nose, snuffling at the unsettled air they swept up. It let out a low whine and pottered into the kitchen, seemingly content to chow down his dinner.

Jacks eyes moved quickly over the walls, above the boxes were photos which had been carefully lined up. Whoever lived here had a big family; nearly every photo had a different set of people in it. Some were of – Jack assumed – a young family and even in the dim light he could make out the smiling faces of three children, all with fiercely red hair. Next to it was a photo of a couple, it was old, with drained colour and the frame appeared to be just as old. The couple were smiling warmly, the woman wore round spectacles, pearl earrings and her hair was scraped up into a neat ponytail which fell about her shoulders. The man had one hand gently placed on the woman’s shoulder, his big grin spreading from ear to ear like he was the luckiest man alive. Jack frowned as he studied the man’s face; he was sure he knew him but couldn’t place why. It wasn’t until Death turned to catch Jacks attention that he realised why that face was so familiar – it was Death. 

“Jack is something wrong?” Deaths voice was soft; he’d obviously noticed Jacks distracted behaviour. Jack shook his head as he felt a sinister twist in his stomach, why did Death look like the man in the picture? “We must press on Jack” Death urged and disappeared into a room, Jack followed spurred by his curiosity, if not for that he would have probably already told Death where to stick it. 

The room he entered smelt the strongest of that strange concoction and as Death moved to the side he could see why. Lying within a large, iron cast bed was a small woman her white hair framing her pale face. He heard the beeping of a heart monitor that oddly he had not noticed until now although it seemed to emanate through the entire cottage. He watched the steady patterns on the black screen and considered the large clinically white machine along with the fluid bag and wires out of place amongst the richer colours of the bedroom. It was now he also took account of the lack of boxes in this room; instead it appeared to be the most comfortable and lived in part of the house. He watched Death move around the bed, his face shadowed by the hood which surrounded it; the Guardian passed an old wicker couch which housed another sleeping body. Jack moved closer, Death seeming content to let Jack investigate. He crouched down in front of the sleeping form the initial thing that drew him to her was the amass of dark red curls that fell about her – he could tell just by that she was one of the children from those photos, however now she was a full grown woman. She lay with her back against the arm rest of the sofa, her face illuminated with the moons rays which were allowed fully into the room. Her hand gently clutched a book, her thumb stuck between as a bookmark while her other hand hung limply off the sofa. Jack thought she looked drained, stress lines and shadows under the eyes suggested stress, his eyes moved over to the woman lying in the bed – her mother.

“What’s wrong with her?” the words escaped his lips before he’d had the chance to decide propriety, he felt like covering his mouth to silence anymore words that might escape, but from Deaths expression to the question it appeared a perfectly logical question to ask,

“Tumours, many of them” Death slowly moved to the side of the bed nearest the window, his cloak soaking up the bluish moonlight - Jack wondered if the moon was watching and his mouth formed a grim line at the slight invasion from the glowing satellite. 

“That’s why you’re here” Jack muttered, it felt so surreal. Death didn’t respond, considering the remark for what it was, a statement. Silence fell and Death merely watched the sleeping woman, her breaths shallow and silently laboured. Jacks stomach dropped as he noticed her stir, her head turning gently as she opened her eyes,

“Peter…” the woman’s voice was small, Jacks stomach all but dropped to the floor as her eyes focused in on Death, 

“Miriam” Death responded - his voice had changed an accent to it now which Jack was sure hadn’t been there before. His ears pricked at the name, so Death was the man in the photographs. Jack bit his tongue and pinned himself to the furthest wall away from the couple, nerves flooding him at the remembrance of Deaths words ‘Things may happen and you may not agree and you may be scared of. But you must let things go their course and let me do my work, understood?’.

“It’s been so long Peter… I-I didn’t know you were coming… if I did I-I…” her words trailed off, Jack could see the wetness of her eyes, “I have missed you so much”,

“I’ve missed you to lass,” the old woman smiled at the affectionate nickname, relaxing into the quilts beneath her as if they had been far too hard until now. Jack clenched his fists behind him unsure of what he was seeing, was Death pretending to be this woman’s husband? Or was Death channelling the spirit of the long dead man, was this actually her husband? 

“The children have missed you” she smiled, adoration in her eyes, “Roger looks like you more and more every day and Gina… she’s not left my side since this wretched infection started” Death seemed to soften, a smile creasing underneath the thicket of beard,

“You still keep them close” Death said leaning closer, Miriam nodded,

“They need someone to look after the grandchildren of course” she attempted a light laugh, although the sound became strained towards its end, “… they’re so beautiful Peter” 

“I expected nothing less, with a beautiful grandmother like you” Miriam seemed to blush at that comment, the rosy tint accentuated by her pale features. Jack smirked, Death wasn’t as out of touch as he seemed,

“You were always a charmer, Pete” the old woman tried to shift closer but her body was too weak, she huffed frustrated, “I never was one to stay in bed… Gina’s been-“, Miriam’s hand wavered in the air, finger in mid unfurl, Jack noticed she was staring directly at him, “Peter, who’s that boy?” Jack felt suddenly glued to the spot, his hands and feet to heavy, she could see him? She could actually see him, no snowballs or frosty windowpanes with which to write on, he hadn’t done anything why could she see him?

“Just a friend I met on the way here” Death appeared nonplussed, his focus still on Miriam, “He wanted to help escort you” Miriam still had her eyes firmly on Jack but the new information had relaxed her gaze, Jack still felt as stiff as a board – his knuckles whitened and frost ebbed across his staff as he used it as some form of grounding rod.

“Escort?” she turned back to Death and Jack let go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding until then,

“Yes lass, we need to be on our way” his voice was still gentle and it seemed to suck all of Miriam’s attention back to him,

“But where? The children, I need to let them know if I’m going somewhere” her voice became livelier at the concern for her children but Death quickly hushed her,

“They’ll be fine lass; it’ll be like old times. Like the time I took you to the state fair and your father nearly wrung my neck for not asking him first” the memory got an unexpected giggle out of the old woman, Jack was just about coming back to his senses to take notice, “It’ll be an adventure lass, and the rascals will be happy” a wide grin came to Deaths face underneath the thicket of beard, an equally beaming smile resonating from Miriam,

“Yes…” she bit her lip excitedly; “they will be happy” she pondered for a moment, “shall I pack?” the question caught Death of guard and he laughed lightly,

“Don’t worry about that… just close your eyes” Miriam gave a confused glance at that,

“Close my eyes?” Death smiled at her,

“You remember all those car journeys… what we told the kids; you’ll get there faster if you close your eyes” his eyes softened, Miriam’s eyes twinkled with moisture as if in understanding and wandered over to the sleeping form of her youngest daughter,

“Gina …” he lips formed a warm smile, “I love you, my darling…” she dared a look at Jack who still held fast against the farthest wall, “make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid” her head motioned towards Death and Jack nodded dumbly, his tongue felt too big for his mouth. Her eyes creased with a gentle smile as she settled back down into the warm enfolds of the quilt, 

“Keep me safe Peter” she whispered and Death nodded gently. Jack stared as if in a trance as the old woman closed her eyes, a look of peace present. Death moved forward and put a hand against her cheek and whispered something Jack couldn’t make out. Miriam made a serene hum as Death placed a chaste kiss to her forehead and held himself there briefly. Jack felt the room become utterly still and silent, the monitor which until now had held a steady pace suddenly flat lined and became a white noise behind the otherwise eerie static that floated through the room. He expected a flash of light or the woman’s spirit to float up through the ceiling or for it to appear next to Death. The films he’d watched had given him this odd view of what death would be like – instead there was just silence and a cherished connection between Death and Miriam. He stood solemnly, tightening his grip around his staff as if it were the only thing still holding him up; his brain hadn’t quite gotten over the fact that she had seen him. 

When Death rose Jack noticed a slight change to the creature’s eyes. Where originally black lifeless irises had been there was now a blue purple tint, pupils just about visible – Jack even noticed an odd glow. Death appeared drained, his rise to standing seemed more difficult than it should have been and Jack silently reached out to help,

“No…” Death waved Jack off, “It’ll pass” the weary spirit made its way out of the house leaving Jack slightly uneasy within Miriam’s bedroom. He cautiously moved forward, his other icy palm unsticking from the wooden panelled walls. Miriam’s expression was content and Jack couldn’t help thinking she was merely asleep – even after what had just happened. He shifted into a more defensive stance as he heard a cough and groan from behind him, the daughter was running a hand through her mass of unruly curls and Jack tensed more so at what would come next. The heart monitor still droned on its singular tone and he held a breath at the exact moment the noise registered with Gina.

“M-mom?” Jack couldn’t stay, couldn’t watch the scene that was about to unfurl. His eyes darted from Miriam, to the heart monitor, to the daughter before he quickly left; hoping Death had not abandoned him.


	5. Tell Me Everything.

Jack breathed in the fresh, chilly air as he passed the threshold of the house, feeling the cooling blue of the moon on his skin. His stomach had settled and his legs were working off their jelly like feeling in response to the eerie events inside. Coming back to the present he scanned the front garden for signs of Death, but could see nothing of the dark figure, had the older Guardian bolted so quickly? He darted past the gate and calmed his panic when he saw the spirit sat on a nearby bench, his head bowed. The guardian was shadowed by a high wall and Jack could have very well missed him if not for the ivory staff which glistened against the moons glow. He raked a pale hand through his hair before heading towards the lonely figure worry running through his head that Death may be hurt – an odd concept he quickly considered. 

“Death!” Jack watched the hooded figure jump, startled before his face came into view. The frost spirit floated swiftly to the older Guardians side, noticing a tired smile upon the weary face,

“Ah, Jack. I wondered where you’d got to” the hood shifted back slightly and light tickled at Deaths eyes, bringing a twinkle to them – creepy, Jack thought. 

“You left me in the house” Jack replied flatly, 

“Oh, so I did” Death let the end of his staff dig into the earth beneath, his mind partially elsewhere, “My apologies, I needed the air” 

“You okay dude?” Jacks brow furrowed and he leaned against his staff trying to conceal his worry with a laid back stance,

“Yes… It can just get a little overwhelming, even after so many centuries... millenia” Death turned his face down to the gravelled earth, “The souls, they can be very draining” 

“Yeah about that…” Jack shifted his weight, moving to stand in front of the bent over guardian, “Why were you parading around like her husband?” he watched Death’s head raise his eyes resigned to Jacks blue front pocket, “Pretty sneaky if you ask me”

“Pardon?” Deaths shoulders tensed under the mass of black fabric, Jack inwardly chided himself but continued none the less,

“Lying to her I mean. I wonder how willing she’d have been if you’d come to her all bony” Jack wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he felt as if Miriam had almost been tricked into her death, “Your like one of those con men” he noticed Deaths eyebrows raise at his last addition,

“I did not lie to her Jack” Death looked as if he’d expected this and it only made Jack more annoyed that he was just taking it on the chin,

“What would have happened if she’d refused you? Would you have forced her? Scared her….. Threatened her?” Part of him was terrified that this would have happened to him, in his last moments drowning in ice water Death would have come as someone he loved and coaxed him into an early grave that he was not ready for, he hadn’t been ready for Guardianship but at least it hadn’t come with the finality that death did. “Did you know anything about them that hadn’t been fed to you? Was Peter willing in this venture, huh? Or did you force him to? Do you just store all these dead people in your head so you can whip them out when it please's you?” His mind flashed back the little girl,

“I force no one Jack” Death sighed; he caught sight of the wetness in Jacks eyes and resisted the temptation to just transport himself out of this. He was never good with conflict or confrontation with others of his kind. He’d expected himself to be angrier at the accusations flown his way, but he knew that fury would get him nothing but fear from the younger spirit – or even worse, rejection,

“Then what do you do?!” Jack bit out, confused – angry that he was confused; he thought that death would be so much simpler than this considering how it ended. Death felt a tug at his centre, he needed to be somewhere else – somebody else needed a comforting end – but the boy in front of him had given him a sensation that he hadn’t felt in centuries. Friendship, he thought, odd. He knew the spirit had been shaken by the death he’d witnessed, not to mention the fact that the elderly woman had seen him – he hadn’t mentioned it but he knew it was circling around the edges of Jacks mind. The boy still stood steadfast in front of him, his chilling frost spiralling and licking upwards across the ground as a reflection of his anxiety.

“Jack…” Death started, trying to work the words around his tongue, stringing adequate sentences before he voiced them – he noticed the frost spirit tense, “You must understand that death cannot be postponed or indeed avoided. When it is some ones time they must accept it, no matter how painful or unexpected it is. Miriam was in pain, would you have rather she suffer on?” Death now looked into Jacks eyes fully and saw the conflict there, he continued to save the boy that pressure, “I’ am… merely the instrument with which the spirit is channelled, this is my position – I do not get to decide who lives or who dies – their spirit tells me when it is their time”.

“But why the…” Jack motioned to Deaths face, “why the mask I guess” Death relaxed noticing that Jack had calmed while he’d reasoned – the frost patterns no longer as far reaching as they had been. 

“Ah… well that’s complicated… and long” Death chuckled lightly when he noticed Jacks unwavering focus on him – he obviously wasn’t going to leave without an explanation,

“When I was very, very new I was unseen. For centuries I went about like a mist… not even a mist just a presence that came in the night. As I grew I became a creature, a thing but still bodiless just an energy. I liked the shade of the forests and the sound of the sea… I watched the children of tribesman play in the rivers, catching tiny fish… I saw everything… everything! I had emotions and feelings where before I had been nothing” Jack had positioned himself on the chill ground, legs crossed and his head and arms resting against his staff. Death felt like a story teller, “I was worshipped as a God, I had so many names from so many cultures… they sacrificed to me… animals, people, I had to take all into me but I could never tell them, unable to tell them that what they did delivered nothing. I could never be an avenging angel or some power which stopped a plague, a famine, a drought. I floated into their temples and tombs and saw images that were meant to be me! These imposing dark bodies and skeletal figures that showed me as some malevolent beast… they thought me evil because I took everything away… some even lusted after that evil, I still to this day find it unnerving”, 

Jack watched as the figure before him flitted through emotion after emotion. He’d never spoken to someone so ancient – although he was never sure of how old Sandy was he assumed he and Pitch were the eldest of the spirits he’d come across until now. But conversations with the dream weaver tended to come to a standstill when Jack no longer had the energy or patience to play charades. Most of Sandy’s life would remain a mystery to Jack, at least until he could translate more than two word sentences. His brief conversations with Pitch had only ended in pain; Jack shook away the freshest wound.

“I am not evil Jack” Death’s words pulled Jack back to the present and he saw the concern in Deaths eyes, “you may think me cold or desensitized but… I never come to these souls with malicious intent”,

“I understand…. I think” Jack gave Death a reassuring smile. His chest was still tight from his rant at the old guardian, he was still waiting to hear why he used the faces of other people – some cynical part of him wanted to believe Death was avoiding that particular subject,

“I got so weary of being unseen, unable to tell people that they didn’t need to fear me… Pitch hated me for it, unsurprisingly he and I were close… still were in fleeting passing – until you put him in his place” Jack grinned half-heartedly, the mention of Pitch brought an odd sense of jealousy to his mind, Death had been friends with Pitch – or as close as it could get. His heart had also winced at the mention of Deaths invisibility, Jack had gone so many decades without being seen – and even his first interaction was with a spirit who had no interest in a fledgling spook like himself. Death had been unseen for more centuries than he thought sane, it made his skin crawl. 

“I became angry…” Jacks eyes darted back up to the hooded face, eyes unnervingly dark, “and I no longer wished people to understand their mortality, I just wanted them to know that I existed. I became the skeletal form, unknowingly at first – I had no idea how easy I could form myself, drawing energy and peoples thoughts, using them… I’d never done it before – never even fathomed it” Death gave a sneer, “Eons had gone by and I’d been invisible for all that time, unaware that I could form a shape” 

“Late bloomer” Jack gave his signature grin and watched the self-loathing melt from Deaths face,

“Black loved it, during the plagues and wars I created so much fear and he fed from the trauma and lingered in the shadows, within the empty sockets of bodies... The fields of dead men and streets of corpses provided me with so much knowledge. When I took a soul I felt their life flash in front of me, their memories both cherished and feared. They gave it all to me upon our meeting” Death paused, looking back to Jack whose expression resembled that of a mesmerised child, “In order for people to see you, they must believe in you… yes?” Jack nodded, at least that had been so until Miriam blew it all sideways, “Well, similar to you people could not see me until they accepted me… accepted death, the finality of all things” Death frowned and looked away from the younger spirit, “But when people accepted me and saw me – this wraith like creature - they rejected me, rejected death and so often their passage onwards was distressing… it had never been like that when I was invisible, it just happened. Whether their end was bloody, unhappy or peaceful once I connected with them they just flowed through me and to their final destination, whatever they saw of me I would never know” 

“But I couldn’t bear to be unseen once more, hidden as a cloud of energy to slip in then out. The Guardians of the time felt me a threat, I laughed then at their consideration to even attempt extinguishing me – they never would – The Man in the Moon had his place for me. But put into a category where I was this demented executioner was not who I was, not who I am. Then there came a night when I entered the room of someone who would not leave so easily, he ranted at me and told me he had so much more to accomplish – futile” Death noticed the look of disagreement on Jacks face, “He fought with me, his soul latching on to my energy and refusing to let go. It became an internal struggle so strong that I ended up inside my own energy, shattering the skeletal figure to deal with the relentless spirit. When he finally gave in I entered into this world once more to notice I now resembled the very man I’d fought yet his body was still sprawled on the ground in front of me” Deaths eyes became wild, remembering the scene in vivid detail, “I could look like the humans, I thought, I could mimic them – the soul no longer within me but the memories of that person held on. But my own energy could not reside in just one body, unlike the wraith which had been like the bait of a fishing line the body was a sealed cage, I ached and felt constricted. I resorted to releasing segments of my own energy into little will-o-wisps that I soon found would aid me in my purpose, they became my garrison of reapers" His partially hidden lips smiled fondly, "I grew quite a collection, of both the wisps and the souls… and I began using the familiar faces of relations to help guide them. The souls were at rest, the memories and appearance imprinted upon my own abilities that were so new to me… my work so consuming that only then had I really discovered what I could do” The old spirit glided his focus to Jacks eyes, his vision up until then a myriad of past and present. He gave the boy a firm look, “That is why I use those people Jack, I never drag those passed spirits back, they leave me with all the information I need. Those emotions make it so much easier on a person who cannot fathom what may be after.” Jack felt like he’d read a book in record time, his head felt stuffed with new information, things that he found hard to wrap his head round. He still felt like what Death did came into the realms of questionable consent but he argued with himself that Death in itself didn’t need consent – it came, it took and it left – much like what he’d seen earlier. 

“So… that girl…” His thought darted yet again to the pretty girl in black from months ago; her face had been etched in his mind since, 

“She had been dead for many years” He watched Jacks face become almost mournful, 

“What was her name?” His question took Death by surprised,

“Natalia” 

“You remember that?” Jack blinked, not expecting an answer, 

“I remember everything” Death’s eyes creased as a smile emanated from under his beard. Silence fell for what seemed like too long, Death watched the cogs turn in Jacks head, processing. The tug at Deaths chest came again and he telepathically beckoned a wisp in the direction of the wavering soul; it had been so long since he’d needed to use such a tactic and a good while since someone had demanded his attention so persistently. His eyes crept along the tendrils of frost that spun from Jacks fingers and across the gravelled path, ending up cresting on the legs of the bench – it was a curious power. Jacks bright blue eyes darted back and forth under a heavy concentration of white lashes before aiming once more at the shadowed face of Death,

“Miriam, she saw me” Death smiled to himself, wondering when this subject would be breached. His smile faltered though as he took in Jacks expression, vulnerable and innocent “I didn’t do anything, god! I’ve tried so many things in the past to get someone to notice me, but I just stood there like an idiot and she – she looked right at me!” the excitement and confusion tinged his words, shaky towards the end, “Why?” the question was directed straight at Death who sat slightly bewildered,

“The soul accepts many things when it’s on the cusp, maybe the body is fragile to otherworldly presences before death” It was merely an assumption; he actually had no idea – something which didn’t happen often, “You were the first spirit to follow me into my work, I didn’t know something like that was possible” Jack looked like he was in the midst of a surging panic attack, breathless with excited energy, 

“I’ve got no clue why, it was amazing! I mean, I could’ve made things for her, made her laugh – North’s been teaching me how to make these little horse things with my ice, I could have made one for her – gave her a good time before you did your weird kiss of death thing” Jack was tumbling in the wind now, stopping to voice his ideas – his head a mixture of creativity and anticipation,

“Some of our kind find me to be a dangerous individual” Death muttered, more to himself than Jack who was firing himself this way and that, using the pent up energy this night had created. He glided himself back to the waiting figure of Death who had now moved further into the middle of the street to watch Jacks acrobatics. His feet scuffed the ground as he landed in front the older spirit, he bit his lip as he noticed the snowy orange hue in the sky, it would be light soon,

“Oh man… I kept you here for ages, you’re gonna have a back log now right?” Jack gave an apologetic expression, his cheeks flushed from his previous exertion,

“I told you before; my wisps can hold the fort” He cast a hopeful gaze at Jack, “You no longer think I’m a con man?” Jack shook his head but Death could see the reserved words, ‘I still don’t like it, I don’t think I can ever completely understand’

“I am relieved” Death gave a gentle nod, hiding his slight disappointment at not fully gaining Jacks trust, “As you mentioned, you have had my attention for far too long” Death rocked on his heels,

“Heh, yeah I guess you need to get back to reaping and I need to get back to the snowball fights” Jack grinned, tapping his staff on the ground as if to make a point, “We can do this again?... I promise I won’t go blowing my lid off at you – I get your whole face- off thing… I think” the coy expression had returned to Jacks face and Deaths soul fluttered at the childish trait, 

“I think I can manage that, it won’t be as much of a shock to your system either” 

“You won’t look like this” Jack motioned to all of Death,

“No I won’t, but I’m sure you’ll be able to find me” Jack felt a weird sense of loss at those words, this man – although he’d only known him for a few hours – now felt familiar to him and the fact that he would never see him again left Jack in an odd state. He’d meet Death again, but never in this body and never with that voice – it would always be different, a new Death to get used to each time. 

“You’ll be different each time?” Jack continued, the nod he received only confirmed his peculiar feelings – would he mourn this man when Death had gone? Would he be excited to see what the old spirit would look like next time? 

“I’ll see you soon Jack” Deaths voice was an echo which emanated all around him, Jack looked up sharply not realising he’d wandered back into his thoughts. He cursed under his breath, he really didn’t like how Death got about – he half expected for him to jump out and scare the snowflakes out of him but after a few minutes of lazily making laced frost patterns across the brick wall he concluded Death had vanished for the foreseeable future, 

“I’ve got to get better at those horse’s” Jack grinned, hoping he could at least act more like himself next time he met a dying person – that just didn’t sound right.


	6. You Shouldn't Be Here.

Sandy was out making his rounds within the slumbering capital Boston. The golden furls of sleep string wound their ways through tight alleyways and crept into the thousands of houses and apartments which made up the tall city. Jack watched idly from atop one of the tallest buildings, he’d situated himself so Sandy’s yellow cloud was directly in front of him, floating miles above the sky. Every now and then when he crossed paths with the tiny guardian Jack would just take the time to watch the dance-like display of dream weaving. He felt the cold north wind finger through his hair almost encouraging him back into the sky but he ignored it – he wanted the tranquillity. Sandy raised himself above the swirling cloud and a starburst erupted from his palms, scattering a star fall down into the high rise apartments, lighting up the rooms softly before entwining itself into the inhabitants perfect dreamscapes. It fascinated Jack that so many people could live in one building, houses were cramped enough for him he couldn’t imagine what it would be like in something that probably held more people that it contained windows.

The dream wielding guardian merrily waved at Jack from his perch above, he’d been aware of Jacks presence for some time but the job kept him busy. They both enjoyed the company of the other and over the recent months just the fact that another was present soothed the solitary nature of their lives. Jack waved back enthusiastically, but the feelings stopped at his exterior, to be truthful his mood was quite sombre. He knew his moods fluctuated much like the tides but in the month since his last meet up with Death he’d felt an ebbing at his generally fun loving self. He’d told none of the other guardians about his continued contact with the dark spirit and some part of him felt like he was harbouring a shady little secret. North had told him that Death was trouble but Jack thought that in retrospect he’d caused Death more problems – he’d kept him away from his work… and death happened all the time, even the few hours that they’d been in company may have set the older guardian back hundreds of hours. Furthermore the reasoning behind Norths labelling of the reaper nagged at Jack to, was there something about Death he was yet to see? The war in Jacks head regarded his desire to seek the other guardian out more, or sever the friendship altogether – he’d never had to deal with this before.

His thoughts were abruptly pushed back as he noticed the golden glow of Sandy; the small guardian had silently come to hover in front of Jack. The frost spirits head shot up, taken aback that he hadn’t noticed someone watching him – especially Sandy who practically emanated _‘I am here’_ with his warm glow,

“Oh, hey Sandy” Jack gave a grin and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck at the rise of his slight embarrassment. The little guardian waved back before a fleeting array of signs crested above his head,

 _“You ok?”_ Was about the gist of what Jack could grasp,

“Yeah I’m good – you finished with your dream weaving?” Sandy responded with a shake of his head before another flurry of symbols,

“ _Checking up on you”_ The Sandman raised an eyebrow as his warm eyes radiated concern,

“Heh, you don’t need to do that Sandy” Jack leaned a cheek against the length of his staff, a fluttering of frost embedding into the nooks of the wood. Sandy sighed and shook his head with a tired smile,

 _“I need to move on”_ Sandy pointed towards a distant collection of buildings that Jack could just about see through the mist – the wintery weather made everything look so surreal up high.

“Ok cool” Jacks eyes glazed in the direction Sandy had pointed, “… Sandy, can I get your opinion on something?” he wondered briefly why he was even considering asking the other guardian about this, but the question was nagging at him. Sandy gave a brief look of surprise before nodding,

“Um, Don’t worry I won’t keep you long” Jack glanced a brief look of concern but Sandy gestured for him to continue, “Well… geez how can I… Y’know when you have a friend who’s really busy, like _you’re_ workload busy, do y’ think they’d want someone hanging out with them? I mean would it be just someone getting in the way for them?” The wording had been so much better in his head and Jack wouldn’t have been surprised if Sandy had just floated off. He watched the cogs moving, literally, the little wheels turned above Sandy’s head as he processed Jacks question,

 _“Friends will tell you”_ Sandy begun, his eyes quickly darting to grasp at more complicated images, _“they will tell you if you are in the way. But friends will also make time for you. Like I do”_ He ended with a beaming smile, Jack nodded as he tried to understand, Death considered him a friend he knew that much. But Jack worried that there was something missing. He noticed a flashing sign above Sandy’s head, a large glowing question mark,

“Oh, um…” His mind wavered,

 _“A new friend?”_ Sandy’s smile became wide with excitement as Jack nodded, “ _Child?”_ a picture of a small boy popped up above Sandy’s head and it made Jack think of Jamie,

“Heh, no” the response was a surprise to Jack as much as it was Sandy, why did Jack get so calm around the little spirit – he gritted his teeth as if they were glued shut. The golden guardian flashed a question mark above his head once more, combining it with all manner of creature so quickly that it gave Jack a headache. He pushed at the dream sand which curled around Sandy as if to wash away the conversation but the act seemed to make Sandy more determined to know the mystery friend,

“ _Please?”_ Sandy gave a puppy dog look and Jack chuckled in response, the dream weaver had more persuasive power than any motivational speaker. Jack watched as the pleading face remained on the other guardian and he knew he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. It was more the guilt of children with dreamless sleep than the uncomfortable unwavering stare that Sandy had fixed on him that broke down his stubborn resolve - at least that’s what he kept telling himself,

“You can’t tell anyone Sandy” that statement took the puppy eyes straight off him and Sandy frowned curiously, “Promise? Not even North” his original conversation with the giant spirit sprang back into his mind, “Especially not North!” The golden guardian nodded quickly and placed a hand to his heart to seal the secrecy. Jack gritted his teeth once more before releasing Sandy of the almost painful anticipation in his eyes,

“Death” Jack winced for the expected barrage of confusing symbols but when he looked back he saw Sandy’s eyes wide, as if that was the last name he expected. Jack became uncomfortable once more, he tapped Sandy gently with the end of his staff, rousing the spirit, “Sandy, you still here?” the smaller guardian blinked and gulped as if snapped back from a trance and looked squarely at Jack. A symbol of what Jack could only recognise as the classic Grim Reaper blossomed above Sandy’s head followed by another question mark, Jack laughed,

“Yeah Death… but he doesn’t look like that” Jack pointed to the lingering skeletal figure, thinking of the response Death would have had for it. Sandy shook his head, astonished, “You’re not mad are you?” Sandy’s placid appearance was back and he reassured Jack of his ease,

 _“Strange friend”_ Sandy signed, the tenseness in Jacks chest subsided a little,

“North says he’s dangerous” Jack muttered, eyeing Sandy in hopes that he would disagree. To his annoyance the Sandman merely shrugged his shoulders but Jack could tell there was wariness there,

 _“Be careful”_ was what Jack could make out and then a hourglass appeared above Sandy’s head and Jack couldn’t quite understand what he had meant by that – in a flash the symbol was gone.

“Don’t tell them” Jacks voice was laced with worry and Sandy put his hand against his heart as a mirror to earlier,

_“I promise”_

“Thank you” Jack moved to balance on his haunches – his body suddenly felt uncomfortable, too small - more of his weight bore on his staff as if he needed the extra support. Jack stared at the sheer drop below, beads of streetlights and head lamps threaded through the streets – it always captivated and calmed him at the same time. The pressure of secrecy had lifted a little by telling the Sandman, although the reaction to the reveal was neither what Jack had expected nor what he had hoped – he was still in limbo regarding Death. The waving of Sandy’s hands beckoned his focus back up again and his eyes took in the flickering symbols above,

 _“You were meeting Death here?”_ Sandy questioned and it took Jack off guard,

“What?...” Sandy pointed to a weary looking building in the distance; the wet rickety stairs that were fixed to its side glowed against the misted moonlight,

 _“In there”_ Jack blinked, gawping at the building as if it had sprouted from the ground, Death was in there? For how long?

“You know? can you like sense him.... or someting?” Jack stood quickly, towering over the little guardian who righted the height between them by rising higher,

 _“Both old, we have a connection”_ Sandy signed as his sand cloud swelled with his pride. Jacks heart fluttered and his toes scraped against the weather worn rooftop,

“That’s some freaky mind melding powers you got there Sandy” He watched the Sandman give a silent laugh, “I’m gonna go find him ok?” Jacks eyes darted from Sandy to the old building below and beyond. Sandy sighed and signed a thumbs up,

 _“Be careful”_ he reiterated,

“You know me Sandy, I’m always careful” Sandy gave a disbelieving look towards Jacks over confident smile but floated to the side to allow Jacks descent, “I’ll see you around Sandy” Jack gave a thankful nod to the little guardian before hopping off to follow the wind. Sandy watched with slight concern as the younger guardian headed toward the old apartment building before taking his own leave.

As Jack surfed closer to the apartments he could make out thick metal pipes and vents running up the sides – they dripped grimy water which stained the brick. The building was definitely a lot older than the previous one he had perched atop, although there was only a quarter mile distance between the buildings there was a certain change in atmosphere. He landed with a wet slap against the uneven concrete of the roof and he smelt decay and rust as he reached the black metal stairs,

“Wish Sandy had been more specific” he mumbled to himself, he’d noticed at least eight stories to the structure before landing. With ease he made his way down the steps, reaching the uppermost story he decided to circle each floor, using the steps as a guide. The first three uppermost floors contained a variety of people but many of the windows were covered with thick blankets or wooden planks that gave Jack an uneasy sensation in his gut. When he reached the fourth floor he felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere, a presence that he’d felt only a handful of times. With anticipation he circled his way around the weather worn building before coming across a small window that seeped a greenish light.

He peered in through the window, not wanting to venture in further unless necessary – the cloying sick feeling of being confined radiated in him by just being near to the apartments. The room within was a bathroom, the tiles an array of green, yellow and white with some cracked or completely gone. The light was a crude yellow with a mottled plastic covering which did very little to damper the harsh luminescence; the colour brightened Jacks skin to a puce yellow. The window was cracked and a triangular gap let the steam puff gently out along with the smell of mint, soap and something Jack couldn’t pin point. His eyes moved down to stop on a very familiar black form, Death. Jacks grin returned and his fingers dipped into the small gap in the glass in order to flick the latch but the sight of another person in the room halted his movements. The stranger was partially hidden from view, Deaths cloak doing a marvellous job of getting in the way. Drifting further along the window he could make out a slender, dark skinned arm lying slack against the side of an olive green bathtub. It was then that he realised what the strange smell was amongst the menthol and soap, _blood_. The hand and lower arm were coated with the red liquid and the bathroom tiles were painted with a sticky layer, Deaths cloak dipped partially into it. His mouth slackened, he’d never seen so much blood and his anxiety grew for the owner of the bloodied arm. His eyes followed as Death moved from his position crouched on the floor to perch on the side of the bath tub, it was then that Jack could fully see the stranger. His fingers dug into the broken glass as he took in the lax face of the girl in the tub, her braided hair fell partially over her face a sickly sheen and blueness to it underneath the dark skin. Her lips looked almost powder dry and her eyelids hung heavy over unfocused eyes. He gulped down a dry and parched swallow as his shock overrode the awkwardness towards her nudity. The steaming bath water was dyed a deep red and Jack felt his stomach lurch.

“Why did you do this?” Jack was slung back to reality by a husky, female voice residing underneath Deaths cowl; it had an accent to it this time. The woman in the bath convulsed a little as she tried to speak,

“I can’t… take it anymore” her fingers twitched and Jacks eyes glazed at the added drops of blood on the tiles,

“Can’t take it?” the girl in the bath let out a low whine as her head rolled away from Deaths gaze,

“this life… the guys, they don’t care… all they do is get high as fuck and…” the girls chest heaved again as she tried to breath, Death hushed her but the girl shook her head stubbornly, “You left Rhoda and everythin’ went to shit…” she rolled her head back to look at Death, eyes lolling in her skull, “I miss you… but they won’t miss me” her chest heaved, “I wanna be with you”. Jack felt like a rock had wedged itself into his throat and he rubbed at the sore spot. Tight breaths dried his lips as they were left parted to the scene before him,

 _‘She’s trying to… kill… herself? … this is not… How can she-’_ Jack felt like the filter in his brain had jumped ship, he’d never witnessed suicide before, this didn’t come under his jurisdiction. He was the Guardian of Fun and this was anything but, the snow days and pranks felt like heaven on earth compared to this place right here and now. His body shook, gripping the piping and window ledge to steady himself – he wanted to be in there to reason with her, scream that she was making a mistake – she’d be able to see him right? It had happened last time; surely he could make her change her mind. He also wanted to fly far away and pretend he'd never seen it, meet Death another day and rip this memory from his mind. But even as the thoughts flurried through his head he felt glued to the spot, like the walls were made of toffee, his fear did nothing to help the vice like grip he held on the piping. The ice spirit yelped as he heard an almighty bang and noticed Death jump uncharacteristically at the same time - the girl appeared unaffected,

“Our brothers are here… they can help you, they’ll get you to a hospital” Death spoke softly and Jack frowned through his distressed haze as he absorbed the words – was Death suggesting she live? That she not give in? Wasn’t that completely against everything Death stood for?

“No!” The protest was feeble and the girl tried to lift her arm but to no use, her fingers slid against the sticky blood, “I wanna go with you! Rhoda don’t leave me again!” There was definite shouting from behind the door and Jack hoped they’d reach her in time “Rhoda please!“ A soft sigh passed Deaths lips,

“Close your eyes…” the words were almost too quiet to hear and Jack remembered the same words uttered to Miriam. The girl let go of a weak sob and suddenly her frail body relaxed into the murky waters,

“Thank you…” the words lingered on her lips as Death leaned forward, her cloak covered the intimate touch once more and Jack had to look away knowing the implications. The door was broken with splintering force just as Death rose to a stand; the face of the girl was now peaceful amongst the red and grimy white and green. Jack glowered brokenly as he watched the first of three brothers drop to his knees in front of the dead girl, his cries were wild and strangled as he brought the limp body to his chest – the water rocked freely over the side of the tub and diluted the sticky bright red blood. One of the other brothers grasped at the crying man’s shoulder tightly while the last crumpled against the side of the bath his clothes soaked up the mess. The girl was tightly rocked against the brother’s chest and he spoke frantically into the braided hair of his sister. Jack was too shaken up to understand anything the poor man said. Is this what North meant by trouble?

There was a rustle of material to his side and he hesitantly shifted to look with watery eyes at the dark figure of Death, he hadn’t even noticed her shift from the room. His eyes moved from looking at her bare feet to her face, the light glinting brightly off his wet eyes, Deaths expression was a mix of annoyance, worry and strangely grief. The gap of silence between them felt stifling and Jack bit back hiccups to prolong the quiet, he was terrified that if he spoke up nothing would pass his lips but garbled nonsense. The sorrow distressed him more with its sudden presence and he found it hard to quell the sensation enough to not cry,

“You weren’t meant to see that” Death muttered darkly and Jack gave a sudden, singular, hysterical bark of laughter. His fingers bit into the broken glass as he heard more voices in the bathroom, another woman and somebody who had begun giving orders for people to move aside. Jacks mind felt an insane mixture of anger, sadness and fear that he hadn’t felt since first becoming Jack Frost. The expression on Deaths face did nothing to absolve the tumultuous emotions. The dark spirit eyeballed Jack under her hood, thick braided hair spilled out from the sides of the cloak and in Jacks blurred vision they looked like dead snakes. Her eyes appeared bright and predatory against her dark skin which was made even deeper by the shadows – if Jack hadn’t felt the radiating concern from her he would have been petrified. He choked back a shocked sob as he noticed the track lines of tears against Deaths face, his grief briefly suppressed by confusion,

“Y-your crying?” the words were strained, angry and he felt his throat tighten up. Deaths eyes were suddenly grasping for anywhere other than Jack. She began blinking rapidly as if to push back the tears, “D-Death…” his hand slipped from the window and he reached out towards the spectral form, Death seemed to come back to her senses at the movement of Jacks oncoming hand and she darted back defensively,

“Jack why are you here?” Deaths voice was stern, her words were all but bit out, Jacks eyes widened at the surge of irritation from her. But his grimace quickly returned to him, tears still streaked his face but his eyes became fierce as he pointed his staff directly at Death,

“No answer me! Why are you crying? This is what you do -” He gestured to the window and the frantic noises still coming from within, “In there, that’s what you do, it shouldn’t make you upset so why are you crying?” he felt the pain in his chest morph into something else, the anger was more present and he frowned at the look of hurt that flitted across Deaths face – it made her appear hauntingly human.

“I-I” her staff pressed against her chest like a shield,

“Why did you try and talk her out of it?” he watched the expression drain from her face and in a flash she’d vanished.

 “Death!” Jack yelled, surging madly up into the sky. He twisted desperately through the channels of wind, searching as far as his vision could reach – he knew that he wouldn’t find her unless she allowed it and the thought angered him more. The myriad of emotions he felt created a wild and angry blizzard that beat down upon Boston. His search became more frantic and he craved Sandy’s homing ability. He stopped mid-flight at the image of the Sandman firmly in his mind – it hadn’t been long since he’d spoken to the older guardian, although unsure of how long it had been Jack was certain Sandy wouldn’t be too far away. He rushed higher hoping to gain a better scope and darted his eyes in search as he reached his desired altitude,

“Found you…” he breathed; the golden wisps of dream sand looked more like string from the distance but he could just about see them, like snakes in the mist. He headed in towards the strands, golden stingrays and giant eagles meeting him as he got closer, they glided between the clouds and up into the night sky.

“Sandy!” his voice was dampened by the flurry of snow he’d amassed, “Chill Jack… calm down” he closed his eyes and inhaled a cold gush of air, the feeling of ice in his lungs helped to ease the red hot anger. He slowed his movements and lowered his arms as the air continued gently in and out of his lungs. The grief from earlier pinned itself to his heart not wanting to be ignored but he grasped at the emotions and tucked them away - he needed to talk to Death. Gasping he opened his eyes wide as the flicker of something darker than black resonated behind his eyelids.

“D-…” He was certain that mass was Death but she was so far away, he closed his eyes again and concentrated more on the shapeless mass – it reminded him of sonar, the little black blob the sought after location in the murky sea. He could also sense the glow of Sandy but it was so much stronger. The little guardian was closer and Jack began to move further away in order to pinpoint Deaths spirit. His eyes remained closed as he directed himself along the currents of wind, the presence of Death began to get stronger and as he homed in on that bead of black his concentration flickered. Jack wondered if this was what Sandy had been talking about, being able to sense the other spirits. Were all the guardians capable of this? Could they sense all of their kind – were they even aware of it? Why was it there?

Jack had drifted out of his blizzard; the fleeting feather like touches of snow no longer graced him. The cold became wetter and took on a salty taste that filtered into Jacks lungs with the oxygen. He opened his eyes confused and drew back as he noticed he was no longer above a city but a vast ocean. He turned to look at where he’d come from, a cluster of lights on the horizon only just visible – how long had he been searching? The sky was no longer murky but clear and full of stars, the body of water stretched on into infinity and in the near distance he noticed a black swirling cloud – it reminded him a little of Sandy’s golden perch. It was so dark this far out and the moon was there yet again making everything look magical and clean, but Jack felt ragged. The pit of his stomach was empty, hollow and his throat ached as if he’d been smiling for too long, forcing the muscles to stay tense until they’d snapped. The frost spirit slowly floated towards the dark mass unsure of how to confront the other guardian, his staff trailed against the gentle waves absently. He wasn’t sure if he was still angry and the amount of concentration put into locating Death had calmed him, the remains of his upset were now just physical wear. The sea lapped against Deaths little black island but the structure appeared solid and unmoving. Jack reached the edge of the cloud; his feet hovered just above the waters, the spray was briefly turned to ice before merging once again with the deep blue.

He glided around to face her and was surprised at the lack of a reaction,

“Death?” he muttered, she slowly raised her head to acknowledge him and Jack nearly fell into the waters – he felt his anger gradually returning, “What the? She’s been dead what? Ten minutes and you’re already wearing her skin?” Deaths face slackened and he inwardly grimaced ‘ _could’ve handled that better’_ he thought. Death had changed into the girl from before, but now the eyes were the signature black pools and the skin was dry and paler. He could sense Death was about to run again and he held his hands out in panic,

“No! Please don’t!-“, the dark spirit lowered once more to sit, a wary and tired expression present, “I’m-I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to… I mean you surprised me, I didn’t expect-“, He felt an uncomfortable heat spreading across his face and lowered his head to hide it, how he yearned for his solitary normalcy and the sub-zero temperatures it brought. But he didn’t want that anymore, did he?

“How did you find me?” it was so unnerving hearing the girls voice pass Deaths lips, unlike in the bath it had more control to it, he had to shake himself out of gawping to answer,

“Sandy showed me how to find others like us… I didn’t know I could even do it” Death look briefly impressed,

“Sandy…” Death spoke his voice warmly, “I didn’t think you possessed enough patience…”

“I needed to talk to you” Jack responded sternly, his frown suddenly returning “It’s surprising what I can do when I’m serious about something”. Deaths demeanour shifted, her eyes avoiding Jacks,

“You shouldn’t have been there Jack” she replied weakly,

“Well I was” his chest suddenly tightened and the memories brought tears to his eyes, ‘ _don’t you dare’_ he warned himself, “Death” she looked up, the word meaning so much more than just her name in that moment,

“Jack…”

“Nuh-uh, no! You tell me, I’m not leaving and you know I can come looking for you now so don’t blink out on me again” he felt like such a dick, but he needed an explanation – he needed to hear why Death had suggest the girl reconsider, why Death had cried… why she’d killed herself – why it hurt so much, why Death was now wearing that girls skin. The two spirits suddenly locked eyes and it seemed as if Death had seen exactly what had been hurtling through Jacks confused mind. The ocean was so quiet and it made everything that much more important.

“I don’t understand as much as you, they’re so strange…” Death shook her head,

“People?” Jack shifted his staff to dip into the sea and a thick ice raft blossomed out from beneath. He balanced part way up the staff, his feet digging into the rough wood.

“I needed to see why, I wanted to experience her sorrow” She uncurled her arms from beneath the black cloak and the slender wrists revealed deep vertical track marks where the girl had cut deeply, “The soul is still warm” the cuts looked like they could still produce blood but instead where left as hollow gashes against Deaths skin, it reminded Jack of carving into warm wax, “She was so lost Jack…”

“That’s why you’re like this?” Jack mumbled, his lips partially covered by his hoodie sleeve,

“If I do this recently after their death, I can look back at bits of their life” Her eyes had zoned in on the cut marks, “I can try and understand” Death looked once more to Jack, “Accidental, natural – these forms of death, no matter how unfortunate… devastating to others and no matter what the age – I can accept and I can deliver the…”

“Kiss of death” Jack finished for her, face reddening from the drama of it all. Death seemed to like the phrase and thin crease lines formed beside her eyes, “But it’s what you were meant to do” the words slipped from Jacks lips before he could judge them suitable,

“You were meant for fun were you not? So why do you hate, weep, fear?” Death just about sneered, “The moon was not so kind when he gave us the ability to develop. Our centres are our key, but what we build upon that is up to us. It would have been kinder to make us mindless dolls” Jack didn’t agree but he kept it silent, his stomach lurched at the thought of being a puppet to some unseen force – doing what was his purpose and then being put back into a box for the next season. Death traced the cut marks, “Death is… natural, pure… when they take their own life... its precious, temporal, vibrant – they can do so much, so much more than I can ever dream. In all this time, I still don’t understand. And when I come to these people and I look like someone they loved, I think that maybe I just make it worse, they want it more” Death reached a hand up to wipe at the salty stains of where tears had flowed, Jack marvelled at how soft the skin looked,

“You cried for her” Jack sighed, his lip catching on the fabric of his sleeve, “You wanted her to live a full life” he rubbed a cold palm to his eyes, feeling groggy and washed out, “And I blew off at you for it” he gave a light unhappy laugh,

“Jack, you must not apologise for that… you were confused and you had every right to be” she waved a hand frantically as Jack attempted to disagree, “No, no don’t”

“Death, you were upset and I was a complete jerk to you!” he interjected quickly, his throat raw, “I didn’t give you time to explain and I-“

“You’re still shaken up Jack” Death cut in bluntly, “I’ve seen that look enough times. I know that was the first time for you to experience something like that” Jack immediately stiffened, removing himself from his staff and standing upright. He wanted to talk about Deaths problems not his; he could deal with this in his own way,

“Don’t worry about me” he cringed at the laced warning; he didn’t want another person tidying up his frayed edges. He wanted Death to be someone he could just have fun with.

“In all my existence you are the first person I’ve wanted to worry about” Deaths eyes suggested nothing but warmth, “Jack, being cared for does not make you weak – keeping it in will make you vulnerable” she watched the words process in Jacks head and understood it was a hard concept for the younger guardian to let in. _‘He was so young’_ she whispered inwardly as she stared at the pale spirit. It had been the primary thought in her mind whenever she saw the frost spirit. The moment the moon pulled her back from the icy waters and graced Jack with his new life she had internally wept. It was one of the accidental deaths that had tugged at her for decades to come, the boy had been a gift to that small settlement – he’d brought love and laughter in the harshest of times. She’d see him grow as she came to claim the old and injured beyond return and as soon as she’d felt his spirit dwindle she’d wished any other but him.

Death had screamed all manners of accusations and insults at the moon after the new spirits emergence from that dreaded body of water. She could understand Jacks inability to let not only words but others in; her years had made her vulnerable. Upon developing these new and unique emotions she had realised that they also brought pain and questions and because she had been unable to speak her pains to others eventually she’d just rejected all who tried. And so many had tried and those who had stayed had only grown weary of her constant leaving, her continuous changes of facades. Her attentions were to the dying… not the living. She allowed Jack his silence, her chest felt heavy and as she reached her attention to the sky she thought of a wondrous idea, it was a little early, but she hoped that the idea would put Jacks heart at ease,

“Jack… I have something to show you”


	7. Never Have I...

Jack watched the dark Guardian cautiously as she led him to some unknown destination. _‘Jack… I have something to show you’,_ the words tumbled around in his head uncomfortably, wanting to be understood. What could Death possibly have left to show Jack? The words had been spoken with kindness and so Jack determined that whatever it was would not end with him regretting playing tag along. However even with that knowledge in mind he didn’t feel any more at ease. The frost spirits stomach still ached from earlier, the soreness radiated from behind his eyes and the back of his throat also. Deaths face still looked the same as that dead girl; it was something Jack didn’t feel he’d ever get used to – her abilities, the desire to end one’s own life, unknowing that your body was now being used by death itself. His thoughts curbed at the passing vision of Death wearing his body if the moon hadn’t given him the role of Guardian, coming to his sister’s side when she was at her last.

“So what this thing you have to show me?” Jack shouted through the whipping wind shaking the unpleasant shiver in replacement of the more favourable elemental chill. They were travelling fast and ice crystals skittered off his frozen skin as they covered the vast ocean. Death looked back, face half covered by her heavy hood and Jack blinked dumbly at the childish smile that played across the other guardians lips before she hid her face once more. That wasn’t an answer at all! The younger spirit growled impatiently, not liking that this was the time Death finally started being fun on her own. He sped up and rounded to face her, abruptly stopping Deaths flight,

“Seriously, I’m far to on edge from earlier for you to get all mysterious on me” Jack grumbled as he tried to ignore how boring he sounded. Deaths smile had gone and she sighed quietly,

“You really have no patience do you” she replied biting her lip uncharacteristically and appeared to be scanning the horizon. Jack tempted a look in her skittered view point but worried that she may disappear. He watched the light sink into the bottomless black of her eyes, more intrigued by the subtle concentration that came through her stolen face. He noticed that the more time he spent with the strange guardian the more he started identifying bits of the invisible creature underneath. It disturbed Jack that without the bodies Death possessed he would be unable to see her… him… it. He didn’t even know whether Death had a base gender, it only tended to play out the gender it took on. But below the confusion Jack could see a curious almost adolescent personality – one that sparkled with new discoveries – perhaps that was what kept Jack returning to the guardian in the first place, only Jack knew this side of Death – perhaps Death had never spent so much time with someone else before. His mind delved briefly into the memory of Deaths friendship with Pitch and Jacks thoughts curdled protectively,

“-think you can make it till then?”

“What?” Jack blinked as he caught the tail end of Deaths words. He noticed the unimpressed expression on the older guardians face and he felt is cheeks redden,

“I said: Do you see the bead of light on the horizon – just before the collection of islands?” Death lifted a slender hand up to point as Jack turned to take note. He squinted his eyes, his brows knotting in a deep line, it took some time but he eventually made out a pale blue light far off in the distance. Behind it was the dark thin silhouette of what Death had mentioned as islands but if she hadn’t stated them as such Jack would have probably never noticed them,

“Yeah I see it, what about it?” He turned back as Deaths hand once again disappeared under her cloak,

“That’s where we need to be” Deaths eyes creased as she took in the excitedly hesitant change in Jack,

“Finally” Jack grinned, “You’re not going to like, sacrifice me to some God are you? I mean, I think I’d make a pretty weedy offering” he continued, picking up and waggling his arm as if it would snap. Death shook her head dramatically,

“You are forgetting that I’m all too aware it would produce nothing” she floated past Jack as she spoke, heading in the direction of the light,

“But you still wouldn’t, right?” Jack laughed nervously and leaned into the wind, letting it carry him. Death gave the younger spirit a side long glance before suddenly picking up speed, “Hey!” Jack shouted after her,

“Let’s see if you can win this race Jack Frost!” Deaths voice echoed on the winds and gave Jacks adrenaline a kick start. He gave a fierce smile before setting of full pelt towards the quickly diminishing black form in front,

“No way am I letting you win this time!” Jack roared, both spirits cascading furiously into the horizon.

Jack whooped as he reached the cluster of islands first, not seeing Death anywhere he turned to look back, hoping to see the small black mass but to his surprise there was nothing in sight. He felt he should be more concerned, uncertain if Death had used her weird blink and gone trick or if she’d decided to ditch him however the resonating light below sucked in all of his curiosity. He lowered himself closer to the collection of islands and realised that most were only inhabited by weather beaten trees and birds. The small world below him was eerily quiet, the birds he could see at the very tops of the trees all watched the softly glowing ball of light located on the central island. As he descended lower to that spot he noticed the blue energy radiated from a structure not dissimilar to a lighthouse. It pierced skyward, impressively tall with symmetrical arches forming the sides, the blue glow turned into separate orbs all spilling, winding and pulsing in and out of the light house and its arches,

“What the…” Jack whispered, he’d never seen anything like it,

“Jack!” Deaths voice startled the younger spirit as he twisted and turned to find the other guardian, “Up here!” the voice beckoned again and Jacks grin appeared once more as he spied the torn edges of a familiar cloak high above the light house. He darted up quickly, joining Death in mere seconds,

“I think I won this time” Jack said, his eyes daring Death to disagree,

“Oh you did?” Death replied, playfully,

“You were nowhere near when I got here” Jack laughed, outstretching his arms for emphasis, “So yeah, I win” Death appeared to roll her eyes, allowing Jack his pride.

“Very well a point to you, it seems we are now even” She bowed respectively, making Jack feel entirely awkward before her eyes moved from him to the collection of activity below, the blue orbs still dancing within the tall structure. Jack noticed an almost loving expression form on Deaths face and he crossed his arms confused,

“So… what’s all this?” he queried, lowering his head to look down,

“A very old place” Death replied, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, “Older than man and far out of their reach. I come here every night” She gave a quick glance to Jack before lowering herself towards the lighthouse.

“Okay… so why have you brought me here?” Jack replied, tentatively joining her,

“You’ll see” Jack fluttered at the hint of mystery and the coy smile that came with it, “You may want to stay up here” he nodded slightly, confusion and anticipation lacing his thoughts. He watched as Death lowered further until she touched the very top of the stone lighthouse. It was as if she had pressed a hidden switch because upon reaching the top all the blue orbs froze in place, pulsing but unmoving. Jack watched as Death outstretched her arms and appeared to tilt her head to the sky above, he began to feel an odd static in the air and it vibrated with an almost metallic sound to it that reminded him of wind chimes in the distance.

“Death…” Jack called; unnerved at the small amount of fear he could feel in his gut. The older guardian turned her head gently and gave a reassuring smile

“You were a shepherds boy once Jack, you should know how this works” the mention of his past life sent an odd chill through his body and only added more curiosity to the overfilling pot. The strange emanating static picked up once again and clung to his staff in anticipation and watched the orbs below begin to slowly make their way up the tall lighthouse. Another noise began, it tickled at his ears and was almost not a noise at all if not for the slowly building resonance – it wasn’t loud or piercing – it was just present and it frustrated Jack to no end that he couldn’t work out where it was coming from. The blue orbs began to merge with Death, the glow curling up from her feet and painting her skin an ever whiter shade. It felt like he was stood on a train rail, the sound of the train getting closer but the vehicle itself never appeared. The noise continued to rise, higher than Jack considered normal and yet there was no pain and it didn’t seem to be affecting Death at all… in fact, Jack wondered if the noise was actually resonating from her. His nervous state almost spilled over as he leapt further into the air at the presence of another blue orb gently bobbing by, en route to where Death stood. He gulped down a tense breath of air and moved closer to the tiny ball, it was warm, oddly translucent and it reminded Jack of jellyfish,

“What are they…” Jack mumbled, his fingers tickling to touch the slowly ambling sphere,

 _‘spirits’_ The voice startled him and he darted away from the ball, his eyes passed over to Death assuming the voice had come from her and gasped taking in the pearlescent appearance of her skin and eyes, _‘Brace yourself’_ she whispered into his mind once more and Jack frowned at the warning.

“Brace mys-“, his words wavered away as he caught sight of a steadily growing glow on the horizon spinning around in awe as the light ploughed closer like a wave over the sea. The sounds which had rung in his ears had ebbed away replaced with a terrifying silence, the wave of light overwhelming his senses. The night sky suddenly appeared like day the wave a bright white and aglittering as the light merged miles above them. Jacks eyes were as wide as possible, his mouth fixed in a mesmerised half smile as he tried to take in as much as possible, why hadn’t he seen this before? Surely if Death did this every night then all the guardians would be audience to it? Death had said these were spirits… were these the ones her wisps collected? The balls of light must have been her helpers,

“North would love to see this…” Jack spoke to himself, imagining the whites of North’s eyes – he wondered if the giant guardian would be as speechless as Jack. More of the little wisps wandered placidly in the same direction and Jacks concern slowly melted away as he twisted about the myriad of spheres, some accommodating the ice spirit while others softly bumped into him before blindly scouting out the path around. He laughed as he challenged their path finding skills, his fingers tickling the very edges of the orbs, receiving a tingly electric charge from each. As he watched the docile spheres he speculated if the deceased were inside, if they were aware. Did they jump as his fingers caught some part of them? Or were they sleeping and waiting what was soon to come? His eyes followed one of the orbs, his hands and staff still catching on others – the orb reached Deaths feet, shivered slightly before evaporated gently into the spirits ankle. It fascinated him how calm the older guardian was and although he couldn’t see her face he could have put money on the smile lacing her lips. Like the frost, snow and fun he created, these wisps were her happiness, he understood why Death had wanted to show him this – the end wasn’t all grimy and full of sadness – what had happened in that tiny bathroom was only the beginning. He felt admiration watching the spirit, her patience of not letting a single wisp left astray. He wanted to get closer to… do something, he wasn’t sure why, to thank her? Tell her it was ok? He was ok now? He felt an awkward twist in his stomach and had to look away, the feelings somewhat subsiding as he looked anywhere but at Death. That’s when he noticed the sky.

The glow had suspended around them and the night sky had been completely blocked out, the atmosphere became filled with a sudden chill that comforted Jacks nerves. The frost spirits eyes drew back down to Death who still had her back to Jack, the cloak was a stark darkness to her now glass like arms. The reaper was perfectly still; her arms still out in a beckoning gesture and her gnarled staff lifted above. Ignoring his earlier hesitance Jack tentatively moved closer wanting to know if she was still _there_. From this distance it looked as if she’d turned to crystal and his concern for her grew. Nearing a rough ten feet of distance between them Jack could hear what he thought were whispers from the other guardian, he didn’t understand any of it but he could tell the words were being rapidly repeated. His eyes kept looking back up to the surreal white skies above, he was sure there was movement in that white scape – objects swimming or floating through them but much like the whispered words everything was just that little bit out of his reach. Jacks attention was suddenly brought back to Death by an almighty clap and before he could work out whether it had been Deaths hands or his staff breaking in half from his iron grip the noise began once more. It came from above where all the white held above and reminded him of the powerful sound of an avalanche, the sound making a speedy increase. Death now had her arms raised, the fingers of her right hand outstretched and her left hand gripped tightly above the lower part of her staff, the swirl of the top pointing to the crescendo above. Her head was tipped skyward to the point that her hood no longer contained the braided dark locks of the dead girl.

“Woah!” Jack was caught unprepared, his arms shielding his head as he was violently pushed back from the dark spirit as the wave of white-blue light crashed down heavily upon the older guardian. Grasping at nothing he managed to curb himself in mid-air, narrowly missing the flurry of birds that frantically evacuated the area. He was further away than he’d originally been hovering and panicked as the black cloak was no longer visible through the white flurry of light that now completely surrounded the light house structure, “I-is that supposed to happen?” his throat felt tight, restricted by his lungs greedy need for air. He tried to move closer but the zephyr which emanated from the glow kept pushing him back with forceful gusts,

“Death!” Jack screamed, his hands coming up to protect his eyes from the harsh light – he felt like he was in one of the strongest snow storms of his life. As the onslaught to the tall building raged on the sky above gradually began to fade from the harsh white to the familiar clear night sky, the moon came into view once more along with the old and new stars. The noise began to damper but still made Jacks ears ring from his closeness to its target, “Death?!” he repeated once more, his previous shout had gone unanswered and he hoped it was because of the noise and not something worse. As suddenly as it had begun the light vanished from the surface of the lighthouse top, flooding darkness and silence back into its wake. Jack was there before the light had fully dissipated, cursing as the figure of Death was nowhere to be seen,

“Sh-she’s gone? Is that how it works? Did it suck her up?” He touched down briefly on the old stone, searching madly as if it would help before jumping back up into the sky, “Oh god please don’t be – Death!” her still glowing form caught in the corner of his eye, she was falling. He cursed before swooping down, praying to the wind to pick up speed. Her cloak flapped at her ankles and the resonating glow was coming off her in vapours.

“Come on, come on, come on!” he growled out between clenched teeth – he had no clue what a roughly five hundred foot drop could do to Death but he as hell didn’t want to find out. He let out a bark of laughter as he gripped hold of the older guardians cloak, the material soon being replaced by a slender ankle, “Yes!” he cried, managing to pick up enough speed to grip a hold of Deaths shoulder. He wrapped an arm around the unconscious spirit before turning his attention to the sandy ground below. With at least two hundred feet of space between them and the ground he aimed his staff downward producing a powerful blast of frost, hoping the force would decrease their speed. The icy spray covered the snow with a fragile glass like crust and Jack sighed in relief as the force of the blast did indeed slow them down, but nowhere near enough. He braced for impact, curling his arms tighter around the form, even though they’d decelerated he knew this was going to hurt like hell.

Jack hit the ground first, the air escaping his lungs in a massive slam however the soft ice definitely helped lessen the pain of impact and he watched through bleary eyes as some of the flurry scattered back down. His staff lay a few feet away and Death was still wrapped tight in his arms the impact hadn’t even roused her. He lessened his grip now they were on solid ground and tried to suck back in the air that had escaped. His back felt disjointed but he knew nothing would be damaged beyond repair – being immortal did have some perks he guessed. The ice beneath cooled his back and washed a wave of comfort and safety over him. After rubbing his stiff neck Jack carefully shifted himself up into a sitting position, his left leg sprawled out in front while his right foot hooked under his left thigh. Death laid in a heap against his chest her cloak looking decidedly dishevelled from the fall, the glow still remained on her skin like an extra layer and it wavered slightly as it slowly lessened its brightness,

“Hey… Death, We’ve uh landed” he spoke softly like he was waking Jamie or one of his friends, he gripped her shoulder and shook it gently the motion unsettling the unconscious guardians head which tumbled against Jacks shoulder. He tightened his grip as her face came into full view at first expecting her to open her eyes but only seeing closed long lashed lids. His eyes wandered to where his hand was, the mess of cloak had parted and he noticed that his hand now rested on dark skin. The frost spirits mind blanked for a second before he realised that this was the first time he’d actually _touched_ the older guardian. His skin heated at the awareness. Touch was still strange to him, being untouched for centuries had left that sense barren and unfamiliar and something that he’d only seen people do but never experienced first-hand. When he received his lost memories even the recollection of touch had felt unreal to him. His first century had been almost alone and when his first taste of touch had been presented to him he’d recoiled from it – it was too strange – overwhelming sensations that he couldn’t get around. After those initial confrontations he’d all but avoided any other spirit that tried to convene with him, only using them for target practise or to get on their nerves – it was more fun being abrasive and distant. The next time he was touched it had pretty much been unwillingly and by spirits he’d never even consider being friends with – The Guardians. North had hugged him so tightly he had been more concerned for air than the panic of sensation and when Tooth had gotten way, way too into his personal space yet again the suddenness had abruptly over ridden his realisation of what was happening. It hadn’t been until later when he was alone that he’d rubbed a hand against his arms and pressed a finger to his lips trying to understand those sensations – the registering of his fingers against skin had outweighed the sensations they provided – he couldn’t get it to feel like what they had. Their touches were warm, strong and friendly – all he ever felt was cold – his hands were always cold.

But now he had friends, the Guardians were his friends and he was a Guardian. Children could see him, they played with him and he revelled in every moment of it but still he avoided touch. And at this very moment he’d been the one to reach out, to save her he’d completely forgotten his inhibitions. Jacks thoughts returned to the prone form in his arms and he recollected times when he’d reached out to her before then. Was it that his body craved touch, his mind just to engulfed by taboo to give in? He also remembered that whenever he had tried to touch her Death had retreated and so was it then that she had some similar hindrance for the allowance of touch – did she fear it as much as he did? He gave a singular chuckle at the strangeness of events and absently trailed his palm against the skin of her arm,

“Warm…” he murmured, his palm leaving the surface to be replaced with the pads of his fingers. Jacks heart raced, paced thump-thumps against his throat as he breathed in cold raw air. This was like a first kiss or something, holding hands when your parents weren’t looking. He shook his head trying to rid himself of such thoughts – this touch malarkey was bringing some odd feelings to the surface. The body in his arms brought forth a croaked groan and Jack relaxed at the sound his hand once again flattening onto the smooth skin, his eyes that had been partially focused on Deaths arm raised to take in what he expected to be a dazed expression.  Instead, to his surprise, he saw two very wide and startled deep black eyes set directly at him,

“What?” his back went rigid, expecting some blood thirsty beastie to be behind him or the crash to have done something disastrous to his face that he hadn’t registered yet.

“You’re... Touching me”, her response was tight and filled with questioning. Jack bit his lip waiting for Death to reject him or shout at him for touching her without permission. He lifted his hand, holding it fisted against his chest,

“S-sor- Hey!” Jack wobbled to keep upright as Death wriggled in his lap, fighting with her heavy cloak to sit up. Her eyes quickly shifted back to Jack who was ready to fly away as quick as he assumed Death was about to. The younger Guardian closed his eyes in a hopes to avoid seeing the look of anger on Deaths face as she vanished completely from his life however as the seconds ticked by he could still feel the cloak covering his bare legs, her body still filling the gap between his legs but just barely, he could tell she’d moved back. Tentatively Jack opened his eyes and saw Death staring at him intensely like a wild thing her dark eyes studying him. His head which had been up until now turned against his shoulder now moved fully to face the reaper, confused,

“Dea-“

“Are you okay?” Death interrupted, her eyes wide,

“Well, I guess, I did just plummet from the sky – I saved you by the way, no thanks necessary bu-“

“Are you tired? Do you feel sick?” Deaths speech was quick, worried, he could tell she wanted to get closer but her mind seemed to have put up in invisible wall between them,

“Err, no” he tilted his head slightly, unsure of where this was going but feeling slightly clammy from the suddenly close quarters, “Death what’s wrong?”

“You touched me” she responded quickly,

“Yeeeah…” Jack looked away, embarrassment colouring his face,

“But you didn’t die”

“No, wait what?” his eyes shot back to the older guardian, the answer entirely not what he expected,

“You didn’t die” she repeated, her face paler than Jack thought possible,

“Yeah you said that – should I have?” He looked to her hands, they were lifted the fingers twitching every now and then as if trying to move on their own,

“Yes… well maybe, I assumed…” Death began to babble her eyes moving from Jack to her hands, staring at them as if they were suddenly the strangest things she’d ever seen, “How long? For how long did you touch me?”

“Err” Jacks mind went blank, to be honest timing hadn’t been his main focus in that moment, “well, I had to grab you out the sky… then I guess from then on?” Jacks answer only made Deaths eyes larger, the whites of her eyes unnerving the frost spirit – he hadn’t expected his touch to create something so complicated,

“This is – Never have I – and you don’t feel odd?” she waved her hands towards Jack as if it helped excentuate the word 'odd'. Jack shook his head slowly suddenly wondering whether he should have regretted the touch,

“You can touch me… “, her focus wandered not stopping on anything until resting steadily on Jack, “Can I?...” Jack gulped, hoping that she hadn’t noticed. He knew what she was asking and in his mind allowing someone to touch him was so different to him touching them. He saw the hopefulness, fear and curiosity in her expression all at once and it made him ache, he knew that desire – to want something so bad, for it to be right there but it needed that one extra piece to make it so. Hesitantly he held out his hand, the same hand that he’d held to her arm only minutes ago. Deaths attention was suddenly transfixed on his hand, her dark eyes steady and wide as her lips parted in wonder. He expected her to reach out and grab his hand much like North with his bear hugs but instead her hands hovered close and nervous. She shuffled closer, her knees were pressed tightly together under the mysterious black cloak and Jack shifted to kneel, feeling sturdier by having his feet underneath – ready to take flight if need be.

The first timid touches of her fingers sent a spiral of thrill to Jacks chest and made his legs wobble unsteadily beneath him. He watched as she brought the digit back and held against her other hand like his palm had stung her. She studied Jack once more and the younger guardian assumed she was waiting to see if he dropped dead. After a few moments Deaths lips quirked and her fingers moved again and connected with Jacks palm. The reaper inhaled sharply an excited smile came to her lips and she fidgeted restlessly. She drew her fingers up as her head leaned in to take note of the creases and ridges of Jacks hand. The younger guardian watched mesmerised by Deaths movements, the caresses against his skin left him breathless, no one had been this gentle with him before and it created an odd sensation in his stomach. Her fingers continued up his own and he took note of the warmness of her skin, the softness of her pads and the lack of calluses or scars – very different to his own.

“Cold…” she commented, it was almost a whisper and Jack began to retract his hand, afraid that the comment was intended to be a criticism. Yet as Death felt the movement she let escape an instinctive whimper and grasped his fingers pulling them towards her like a needy child, “Please” she smiled in a way Jack hadn’t seen from her before, truly happy, he relaxed once more,

“You’ve never touched anyone before?” Jack questioned breathless and distracted by the attention to his hand, watching as Deaths fingers skirted over his finger tips to circle his nails. She shook her head, focus still firmly on his hands,

“I’ve touched more people than you can count…” her voice was soft, “But once I touched them… they died” Jack remembered back to the people he’d visited with Death and of the kiss placed on their heads, he’d connected the kiss with their final breaths but never had he considered that Deaths touch could be in any form and still present the same results, “It seems that my power only affects the living” she continued, a sad edge to her voice. Her fingers had come to play at Jacks wrist and he turned his hand over palm facing upwards, the touches still sent thunderbolts to his frayed nerves and heart but he had begun to relax into them, feeling the sensations as soft tickles rather than starbursts behind his eyes.

“I thought that you and Pitch had a ... thing?” the words made the soothing sensations halt briefly and Death sighed,

“Yes… he did try, but I wouldn’t allow it, I was afraid… but Jack, I can touch you!” her voice lilted excitedly and she gripped his hand tightly the strength behind that grip belying the slender woman in front of him. Death noticed the wince and lessened the hold fingers still splayed out now further up his arm, “Sorry, I forget myself” Her fingers pushed into the soft fabric, “This affects you?”

“I don’t know…” Jack ran his free hand through his hair, bewildered at the fact that he’d freaked out a lot less than he’d assumed he would. He could feel himself shaking, a heavy lead weight had replaced his stomach and fur and tar now lined his tongue, but he hadn’t ran off. He was there, allowing all this when perhaps a few years ago he would have thrown a snowball and dashed off before the unfortunate spirit had time to comprehend what had happened, “I guess, I’m in the same boat as you… or was, y’know being friends with North and Tooth comes with obligatory non-consensual man-handling”, Death smiled at the remark her fingers still clasped around Jacks hand even as it shifted gently in conversation.

Her hand trailed its way up his arm, her eyes suddenly alight once more as she felt the soft fabric of his hoodie and Jack watched her tug and test the elasticity of the blue material. Every now and then she would accidently pinch the skin underneath, his hisses responded to with a flat palm against his arm and an apologetic expression. Her hand felt different separated by the material and Jack wanted her hand back against his but he kept silent, laughing whenever her expression fell back into intense concentration. Jack had become a canvas to Death, the contours of lean muscle beneath blue material fascinated her, his hands had been a map of his history she wanted to go back and trace the pale pink creases in his palms but her hand led onward up his arm, feeling for new sensations. It was too much and not enough, her centuries of ‘touch equals death’ had left her shying away from anyone she grew close to, wanting to express more than just words but afraid to hurt them beyond all repair. Her heart beat fast and she had to keep remembering to breathe as all focus right now was on the beautiful feeling of blue cotton under her fingers. They crept upon the scattered white designs against Jacks chest and to her surprise she found them colder than the rest of the material, was it ice? She dared to scratch the rougher texture but instead traced the designs with a fingertip. Jacks heart beat just as fast as hers underneath her fingers and she revelled in the rhythm – the fast pace instead of a slowly stopping one. Her hands found skin once more, taut against Jacks throat and she wondered at the bob of this throat as he gulped. Deaths left hand relinquished its hold on her staff and moved to grasp hold of Jacks hand again, jealous of the other hands exploring. The frost spirits palm was still up and resting on his knee, she cradled a half curled fist against the flat surface and let it rest the every now and then tensing and relaxing the digits. Jack suddenly gasped and Death realised she’d closed her eyes, at what point she couldn’t remember. Se opened them quickly and realised the source of the inhale was her hand resting firmly against his cheek, she took in the sight unsure of whether to release her touch or continue. Her expression turned puzzled as she took in the almost fearful taint to Jacks features. Death thought he looked ready to run, was it the tenderness? Her touches so far had been soft, gentle – terrified that Jack may blister under her touch or that the pads of her fingers would stain his skin,

“Jack?” the soft mention of his name brought his focus back to Death, she looked concerned and he realised once more the reason why he’d briefly left himself. Her hand rested against his cheek, it was so warm and he could smell something akin to wet leaves – he’d never been this close to actually take in the scent of Death. His heart wanted to escape him, he wanted to escape him! This was far too intimate but he’d allowed it hadn’t he? Death looked ready to remove her hand if he wished it but now her hand was there he didn’t want it to go. Forcefully he tried to relax his shoulders, his hand twitched where Death had curled hers. He felt dazed when he looked into Deaths eyes, he saw past the borrowed face and found a creature in awe of something so simple… but something he found so hard to do? The simple thing happening right now that almost downright pained him? He needed more but at the same time wished he’d just refused her outright – let her go touch up some other wandering spirit. However that thought alone brought a pang of possessiveness to the front of his mind; Deaths touch was his, wasn’t it? He’d been the one who had brought this discovery to her so shouldn’t he be the one to help her progress? He wanted Death to only touch him this way and that sounded so odd as he replayed it.

“This is… new” he croaked out, speaking of more than what was physically happening. Death appeared to release a breath she’d been holding for far too long,

“Very” she smiled but her voice sounded as shaky as Jacks, her hand was unyielding and seemed to ground her. He couldn’t help the choked noise that escaped him as a flutter of nerves ran up his spine from Deaths thumb stroking near to his ear; Jack didn’t think she was even aware that she’d done it. He noticed her eyes suddenly flick to his lips as the sound escaped him,

“Oh shit” he breathed out quickly as Deaths fingertips found his lips,

“They feel different” her voice quirking at the discovery, completely oblivious to Jacks current panic,

“Uh huh” his brain felt like mush, this was too close – like Tooth’s too close and he wondered if Death was going to start inspecting his molars before the hand moved to outline his top lip. He yelped and gave an unattractive snort before falling back,

“Did I hurt you?” Death had moved to crouch closer as Jack fell back, her body hovering over his lower legs, concern showing on her face,

“No you didn’t, it tickled” he rubbed against his lip trying to get rid of the tingly prickles that had scattered over his top lip. The glow had completely disappeared from Deaths body and the moon was the only light source for miles, Jack suddenly felt self-conscious beneath its gaze and readjusted himself, grabbing his staff and returning to a stand. Death still knelt below one hand raised as if needing to touch again but Jack abruptly felt the need to be far away. He needed open space and right now even with the vast ocean by his side he felt very felt closed in. Death wanted to be near to him and he couldn’t hack it – it was too much all at once, “Hey um… I need to…” he gestured his staff upward, unable to finish what he wanted to say. Death bit her lip and her hands lowered to her lap,

“I’ve kept you from your snow days” she finished for him, there wasn’t any sadness behind it but still Jack felt an odd sense of guilt. He’d allowed the touches hadn’t he? So shouldn’t he have had the right to stop it?

“Yeah, heh, I bet Jamie’s wondering where I got to” he kicked at the sand beneath, grasping onto anything familiar  - thank god Jamie preferred rough housing and snowball fights to hugging. Death nodded, her hands clasped together like she needed to feel the touch of anything after that first contact, “You doing okay down there?” he tilted his head, he’d not felt this awkward in a long time.

“Yes” her hands moved underneath her cloak and she returned her hood back its proper place atop her head. The reaper stood up to face Jack, her expression relaxed and void of anything but placidity, “And thank you Jack, you have provided more than anyone ever has”,

“Well y’know” he fidgeted as heat raised in his cheeks once more, this was happening far too much in Deaths company. She nodded, although Jack was uncertain if she understood what she was agreeing to, “I’ll see you around ok?” Death had stopped giving Jack eye contact a while ago and it made him feel even more guilt, he kept trying convince himself she was trying to take it all in. The mention of meeting up again however brought her attention back to him,

“Of course, I don’t think I can hide from you now” the comment confused him until he realised she was talking about the weird sonar thing he’d managed to do earlier on, he was definitely going to have to practise it.

“Thanks for the light show and everything” Jack grinned at the quick look of shyness on Deaths face, he said his goodbyes before pushing off from the ground – he craved the freezing openness of the skies. He looked down as he flew higher, the dark form of Death still in his sights before she blinked away again. Jack rubbed at his eyes feeling emotions pricking at the edges of his mind before being quickly pushed back down – he needed some time to think.


	8. More...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for those who have commented, reviewed and kudos'd. This work is still ongoing, the brief hiatus due to university commitments. 
> 
> Support is always appreciated. I'm currently unsure of how long this fanfic is going to be but hopefully its not going to get boring anytime soon!

Death breathed a heavy sigh as he absently stared down at his hands, watching the weather worn digits twitch and waver of their own accord. The pads were a dark tan, the ridges filled heavily with dirt as if the previous owner of this form had been scrabbling feverously at the dirt before his end. His left hand was imprinted with fresh blood and made the flesh sticky as it dried; with more attention he flexed both hands to feel the difference in movement. He recollected his last interaction with Jack Frost and the imprint the younger spirit had made on Death. It had mutated into his workings so much more than he could ever have fathomed. Jack had touched him, held him, and _saved him_. He would never mention to Jack that the fall from the tower had been only one in over thousands of times; the surge of energy from those collective souls sometimes was too much for him to bear. Sometimes he considered the involvement of war or epidemic to be the reason for such a tumultuous passing however until now he’d never had reason to think on it – before Jack the darker spirit had always just dusted himself off and returned to his spiritual duties. There had never been anyone to explain to.

The act of touch from another had sent Death into a giddy high, work albeit forgotten and left to his wisps that went on without judgement to their flighty master. Death felt like he’d regressed to his first, most primal stage, everything else he had learned and experienced shadowed by this new ability that for so long he’d considered unattainable, unneeded as far as he’d been aware. His original knowledge of touch and its inevitable end of life had produced a blockage between himself and the sensation channelled by fleshly connection.  He took to places he’d ventured in the past but had taken to just watching, caves, tombs, forests and dens along with more modern collections such as galleries and libraries. He followed the channels of natural and man-made constructs his fingers and palms pawing over every surface available hoping to elicit that world shattering sensation he’d took from Jacks hands. His fingers had paused on the earthen char of a burnt down tree, the one hundredth and one of the mass he’d already caressed in this recently brush fire decimated scape. Death produced a frustrated frown on the youthful brow of the suicide victim from that wondrous night, of all his explorations and wanderings nothing had come close to that first connection of skin. His nails had dug down into the fragile charcoal, even more voracious ministrations had produced nothing but haphazardly torn pages, welts, dents and scratch marks within metal, stone, plastic and wood.

Death pondered on the reasons why he no longer felt that euphoric tingle from the simple act of touch. His first thought was that the body was fading, his need for it far extending his normal routine and so he selected another form, his mind no longer focused on their proper usage. He visited his favourite cave a deep dark cavern yet to be infested by humans and full of various smells and sounds that evoked memories of primordial times. He felt the crunch of shells and bones underneath his feet and the squelch of clay and mud, it created a feeling of being earthbound which comforted his otherwise unseen and spectral form. But no matter how much he investigated the textures or how tightly he gripped the walls and gems which littered the surfaces all he felt was cold and wet, sharp and slippery. He glared at his new hands through the thick darkness as if they had betrayed him and were aware of his frustrations. That exquisite static he had felt through his fingers, the heady thrum and flutter in his chest never quite came back. He could feel them attempt to surface as if searching for that right _thing_ , anticipating and ready until suddenly uninterested when their only source was a lifeless object. Perched atop a colossal stalagmite his thoughts clung to that need for life, perhaps it was the energy attributed with a spirit that ignited the sensations within the flesh. 

The reaper emerged from the darkness of his cavern and returned to his destined work as Guardian of Death, however through his recent explorations his task became greedy and selfish. His job as guide for the spirits more hurried in order to reach the necessity of touch. His wisp’s continued without question or worry, almost content that their workload had been slightly lessened by their leaders return. Death savoured touches with the dying and the singular and final connection lingered between Guardian and human. But yet again, no matter how long his vessels lips remained against the dying’s skin all he felt was the familiar veil like tickle of the soul passing into his body. Forlorn he continued his work knowing that his touch would still bring the end of those he touched, ‘ _apart from Jack_ ’, his heart ached. He hadn’t realised until returning back to his duties how much he longed for the younger guardian, but he’d seen the expressions flitting across the frost spirits face within the intimate moments of their touching. Jack had been terrified, still scared when they had finally parted and it saddened Death that what he had found so exhilarating – intoxicating – could bring Jack to full on panic. He wanted more, craved it in fact but also felt concern that becoming overbearing towards the other Guardian would possibly sever whatever friendship they had developed. So he decided to avoid the spirit altogether while sensations were new. Death wasn’t entirely sure that this wouldn’t breed any less rot in the friendship than over clinging would.

Presently, his focus returned to the red now coating both his hands; his contemplation had shifted his hands to a lazy prayer pose in his lap. His desire to touch hadn’t lessened over the separation of himself and the younger spirit and as usual he wasn’t even aware of how long that time had been. Did Jack believe him ignorant he pondered; perhaps this length of time was too long, how long was too long? Slowly he rose from his knelt position on the ground, his robe of unnamed material delicately shadowing the features of a nearby corpse earlier relieved of its spirit. This time of passing had been tough, six bodies in all within the midst of a gang shooting. Deaths current form had apparently been a fellow gang member, shot in the back of the head and buried out in the desert. That explained the dirty hands. Death looked over the bullet riddled bodies sprawled out around him and gave a weary groan at the overkill.  His fingers felt horribly numb from lack of thrill and that sought after prickle as he picked up his familiar staff from the sticky pools of blood. As he touched the staff the crimson residue fell from the staff like ashes and once again took on an eerie glowing grey white like the after burn of coals. He took a final inhale of the iron tang of blood before blinking away.

Out in the most barren point of Russia Jack had let himself be slowly coated in a thin layer of snow, feeling the cold soft tickle of the powder against his skin. He’d allowed himself a brief moment of calm before tackling a newly opened college a rough hundred miles from his current location. He tried not to grin at the thought of Bunny or an unknowing Yeti stumbling upon his partially hidden form only to be scared out of their wits by his sudden reveal, obviously followed by a well-aimed snowball… or five. He’d have to try it out at North’s workshop at some point, the excitement bubbling in his stomach working its way through his sub-zero body. It was at times like this, when he was perfectly still, that he felt the sickly flutter of his thoughts wandering to places decidedly dark. What if people could see him and what would they see now? Would they think he was dead? A pallid faced, pale eyed boy frozen in the snow. What would they do, could he last long enough through their panic before jumping out of their arms and shouting “Tricked you!” before zipping off on the air currents never to be seen again. Would a Guardian find him and tell him to stop fooling around, would Death come and-

Jack gasped, inhaling some frosty shards of snow before quickly jerking up into a sit and shaking the rest of the powder from his upper body. He held his head as if it needed support as well as something else to fill it. The images of Death running through his head brought up a nervous laugh and he flexed his fingers and wrists to release the tension there. He’d told Death he’d try to actively find him but how long had that been? He was hoping the gap between visiting the older spirit had helped Death to get over the initial fascination with touch; however it certainly hadn’t lessened the pounding in his heart whenever his thoughts breached that memory.

The first contact between he and Death had been overwhelming, to think that touch had all but been unknown to him until his memories had been returned to him. But even still, that knowledge that he had touched seemed too much like a fairy tale that the real thing all but blew a fuse in his brain. Death had been warm, soft, and considerate although initially being completely oblivious to Jacks inner (and possibly outer) panic. Jack grimaced; he was happy being distant and liked just being a kid and grossed out by what germs you could get from girls, he’d played that part for years so why change now. Those few brief physical encounters with the Guardians had been as much as he could take and with Jamie it was rough housing, completely different. He’d said he’d see Death again, he wanted to see Death again and he knew the need to receive touch from the older Guardian was becoming an uncomfortable gurgling in his stomach every day. He growled under his breath, his toes stretching under the snow till his tendons ached as his mind drifted to North and his words of warning,

“Least you’re not going to get to gloat” he mumbled ignoring the logical part of his brain that stated at no point had North gloated about being right. He dug his feet further into the snow wanting to be airborne and feeling suddenly closed in and itchy in the white open space. Jack stood up stiffly, his pockets dug deep within the confines of his hoody as he kicked up the snow that had briefly entombed his feet. Indecision and hesitant yearning Jack decided he hated. He knew what he wanted and he knew where he could get it, but at the same time he wanted to run from it and wished he’d never listened to his goddamn curiosity or followed that bloody lump of black. He’d seen how couples acted, giddy on their first date or when they held hands. Jack had gagged at it; it was a waste of time in his opinion. But that was before he’d felt those odd hands explore his own leaving him with a tongue like sand and eyes that were watery and sore all at the same time. He couldn’t ask the other guardians about it although _wouldn’t_ was closer to the truth. Tooth would mither and probably tell North, Bunny would call him stupid and tell North. Sandy had promised not to tell, but how far would that stretch if Sandy noticed how messed up Jack was about the whole situation, he’d told Sandy he was handling things. With all the touchy feely stuff aside, Jack just loved spending time with Death, it appealed to his curiosity or at least the more morbid side that came with an inventive trickster like himself. He couldn’t destroy this relationship just because he was… scared? He’d gone through much worse with Pitch, Death was not Pitch.

Gripping his staff tightly he turned in a surprisingly graceful but lazy circle, kicking up the fresh snow with the end of his rook and watched it fall back down in a crystalline spray. He repeated the action again this time dragging the wind up with him to create a funnel like wall around him, the chilling breeze calming his frustrated state. The frost spirits mind lingered on the college a final time, hoping that the heavy fallen snow would still be there, he needed to go find Death whether their previous encounter was talked about or not he just wanted to be in the older Guardians company, he didn’t want this friendship to end like so many of the others. He idly played with the snow some more, his mind rationalising it as a perfectly good reason to drag out his time before he caught the closest channel of wind, hoping that his recently practiced spirit homing powers weren’t on the blink.

London appeared decidedly dirty in the rain Death mused, her legs hooked and left dangling over the edge of a particularly high Victorian era building. Her eyes lingered on the midday bustle below considering the crowds of people like beetles in march as the umbrellas bumped awkwardly against each other. The noise of traffic was something she’d always found pleasant as it signified life and movement, rather than something stagnating. The pollution filled her lungs and made her throat hum at the dusty clog. The sudden drop in temperature momentarily passed her by until she saw the dance of a few stray flakes of snow within the rain to her left, she carefully tried to hide the blossoming excitement that suddenly emanated from her,

“Jack…” she acknowledged, refraining from moving even an inch. Her concern shifting between the ability to keep her hands in check and the chance of scaring the young spirit away. She heard a shuffle behind her and the scrape of wood, no doubt his staff, before he replied,

“Hey Death, fancy meeting you here” the confident air was back in Jacks voice followed by a nervous laugh and Death couldn’t help but smile as she watched two skinny legs join hers to kick against the worn brickwork, “You come here often?” she resisted the temptation to immediately look at Jack, her fingers felt itchy.

“Only when I like to see how many ways someone can slowly kill themselves” she leaned precariously over the edge, enjoying the dizzy sensation it created,

“Well you’re a happy camper today” Jack quipped, tapping his staff against the insoles of his feet,

“Apologies, I’ve not had my dose of Jack yet” She watched the staff pause in its motion, enjoying the subtle tell-tale signs of bashfulness rather than taking in the expression possibly visible on the spirits face; “Do you want to know something equally morbid?” there was a pause between them, a tension that contained something needing to said, hidden within the greetings and small talk. She resisted the urge to bite her lip, uncharacteristic nerves creeping their way up her spine, shouting at her in a barely there voice to just reach out, even a little finger couldn’t do any harm. But it could, she knew the wounds that still lay bare on the ancient teenager beside her; she wanted to poke those wounds because she knew what tingles it would elicit. Death wanted to be selfish and take and take. The primal and dark side of her nature craved that delicate touch and wanted to turn it into something more. It was angry, that much she knew; furious that millennia’s had gone by spirits and Guardians had come and gone, felt love for her and she’d resisted when all that time she could have cherished, ravaged and wrecked every last pore of that souls flesh. She felt the change under her robes, whether contained in a borrowed body or left unhinged to feel the current of the life stream something had become pure, unadulterated and heavy – all focused on Jack. With a steady close of her currently green eyes she sighed, suppressing the desperately surfacing desires and slamming them back beneath the cellar door. Finally she looked up and towards the pale spirit beside her, the little game of guess the body language trapped underneath as well. Jack was watching her now obviously curious about her unsaid words; she hadn’t seen a nod but assumed from his expression that he wanted to know,

“I could easily float down there now and end the lives of as many as I wanted.  Just a single touch and that would be it…” Her eyes drew from Jack to the street below and back again, watching the cogs turn in the younger spirit as she continued, “In fact, I could end the entire human population within a day. Not even that long in fact, you know how fast I travel. Everything gone perhaps every species on Earth, all gone, think how silent the world would be” She took note of the barely parted lips, the hands that had just then gripped the icy wooden staff that bit tighter, “You know why I don’t Jack?” there was another pause,

“To easy?” Jack replied, a cocky grin present as if previously his nerves hadn’t been so obviously laid bare. Within those moments Death knew that if his dear friends were threatened Jack would fight her till his last breath. Death shook her head slightly and slackened her spine as she once more gazed over the edge,

“Because I love them, Jack, why would I destroy something I love? Eventually of their own accord they will decide their fate and until then I will wait patiently” the smile that played on her lips was genuine. The message within those words were for both her and Jack as she knew that neither would breach the subject of what had happened on her island. Death knew that she could only contain the feelings within her for so long. She’d tasted something euphoric and the only source was within two feet of her, but it was a fragile source, easily broken even with its tough outer shell. For Jack she would soak up as much resolve as she could. Perhaps nothing would ever come of it… and if that came to it, Death hoped Jack would never find her again, she’d go as far into the Earth’s core as possible and shell herself out so much that her old desire for a puppet like existence would be realised. Her eyes drew to the younger Guardian for support, her carefully practised calm hiding as much as possible. She noticed that Jack had visibly relaxed, his chin resting atop his gnarled staff,

“I guess they should feel pretty lucky then” he sighed as his eyes blinked off some clinging raindrops. A singular drop formed on the tip of his nose before gently being turned into ice, she smiled warmly as he rubbed off the irritation.

“Incredibly, I’m usually a very grumpy spirit” she slid her hand across the rough tarp of the roof to take hold of her staff before using it to stand, “Now… I have a gentleman that needs seeing to, I’ve actually been putting it off… this girl, the memories are…”

“What?” Jack stood to join Death noticing the sudden change,

“I will allow you to join me Jack but I’ll warn you, you won’t like this man” Death held onto the young girl’s memories, grieving for her death,

“Heh, c’mon what’s the worst he could be, is he one of those jerks that tells their kids Santa doesn’t exist?” his wide grin faltered at the dark expression on Deaths face,

“I’m sorry Jack no…” Death took a deep inhale before turning back to look at Jack, “this man… he is a killer of children”.  


	9. Bringer Of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh god.... my apologies... i'm going to try and continue this

Bringer Of Death.

“This man… he is a killer of children”.

The information brought a cloying silence between the two Guardians, it begged for action. Jack felt a wave of rage and sickness bubble from his stomach that made his limbs and senses dull in comparison to the emotions he felt. The reality of the world often became pale in comparison to the Guardian life, while Jack made snow days and children giggle, believe and hope, he sometimes forgot that other children cried and suffered. It wasn’t that he didn’t care and it wasn’t that he didn’t know about them; even with the powers of Guardianship, a spirit couldn’t be everywhere at once and it frustrated the frost spirit to no end. He was the Guardian of Fun but he wanted to protect children also.

“Where is he?” Jack asked bluntly, teeth still bearing the brunt of his held back rage,

“Italy, Liguria to be precise…” Death replied, feeling the pull of her task,

“You know where he is?!” The younger Guardian yelled, his knuckles whitened further around his staff,

“Of course I do” Death muttered flatly while avoiding eye contact,

“Why the hell haven’t you killed him then?!” Jack challenged Death, stepping closer – _to close –_ Death noted, “Why wait until now? You should have ended him – children? – That means more than one! You’ve left him to kill how many?!”

“T-thirteen” Death felt the chill of Jacks close contact, the hatred in his words directed at her and the distinct darker tone to the boy’s words worried her and slackened her stoic outer shell momentarily. She felt like crushing the foolish Guardian in that instant: he had no idea. Thirteen times she’d visited that monsters hut and thirteen times she’d clutched a frail still body to her chest. Upon the sixth she had paused before leaving. Murderer’s, killers were laughably familiar to her – the frequency of how humans brutalised each other had become commonplace to her long ago. But this _creature -_ like few before it -she feared. She had stood between executioner and victim; the man slouched in an old rocking chair precariously balanced at its furthest point, ankles jutting out rigid veins. All muscle and sinew, his eyes yellow in the light of an oil lamp, sober of drink but intoxicated on righteous belief and sweaty from his most recent kill. It was at that point, staring into that mortals eyes she felt fear, he loved each one of those urchins he plucked from the streets, enough to orchestrate such an intimate act. Their death to him was a kindness, in his eyes they were angels that needed to be delivered back to heaven. It scared her because she didn’t understand; she wanted to break him down to the barest atom - her restraint had never been so tested, “You know it doesn’t work like that!” Death broke from her thoughts; the emotion in her voice froze Jack in place, “I ‘am the end but I ‘am not the weapon with which it is dealt!”

“Death…” Jacks voice had cooled but it didn’t sooth the ache in her heart,

“That is why I must wait through these monstrosities of man” The older guardian finally met Jacks gaze and noticed the deep pink and indigo hue of anger on his cheeks, the tears threatening to fall through his determination to restrain himself, “I ask you along because I am… I need your…”, The words wouldn’t leave her, never had she required someone else “Will you still come? I understand if this is too difficult”,

“…Course I’ll come” There was a softness to Jacks voice, something she hadn’t heard before followed by a toothy grin; she hoped he understood, “This prick deserves what’s coming to him; you didn’t think I’d miss that”. The anger had gone; Death had seen to that the moment Jack had heard the break in her voice. She hadn’t admitted it but he knew she was scared. It was hard to see, as were all emotions that passed Deaths features but he’d felt it in that moment. He wanted to watch this bastard die, someone that shook even Deaths resolve he needed to see for himself. Even if he couldn’t save those children the killer had already taken, he would make sure Death stopped him from harming anymore. A worry tugged at Jacks thoughts; he hadn’t felt like this since Pitch, his fun-loving nature did not go hand in hand with murderous intent – was this Deaths influence?

“The time is drawing near, Jack we must-“, the tug of Fate was almost painful now, she’d been putting this off for too long. However that in itself confused her; if Fate were that this killer die, it could happen at any time. Her task was only to let the soul pass on, leaving this particular soul to rot in limbo for a while felt almost just to her, so why did it feel that her hesitance only prolonged his life. She gingerly held out a hand, “It will be quicker if we use my method of transportation”. They both stared at Deaths small hand; small bumps and bruises marred the skin. Up until now, their toxic relationship with touch had been all but forgotten,

“Quick is good” Jack replied resolutely, grasping hold much to Deaths surprise. She savoured the friction and chill briefly,

“This may feel a little… odd” Jacks hand tensed around hers and she held in a gasp choosing instead to focus on the coastal town hundreds of miles away. A blink and they were away.

 

The silence was broken by the sound of soft waves. Jack inhaled, releasing the small hand and gripping his staff tight the gnarled wood becoming a crutch for his suddenly to heavy body. His eyes focused downwards to small pebbles and shell shards underfoot, wet and shiny in the moonlight. For an instant he had been nothing, white noise and dust in an ocean of black. Deaths hand had been his beacon while in the black, what in actuality had been but a millisecond had felt like an eternity. He didn’t want to know what that place was and at that moment never wanted to experience it again. He gulped salty air as if it were lifeblood; he didn’t need it, the circulation of air only served as a focus while his mind came back to reality. He stared at his feet, flexing over the multi-coloured floor and creating new sounds,

“Death?” Jack panicked and returned to standing upright, realising he no longer held the other spirits hand,

“I’m here” the girl replied, a few feet away from the frost spirit a softly apologetic look upon her face,

“You do that all the time?” Jack replied still gasping, Death nodded, “I am never doing that again” He ran a still shaky hand through his hair, Deaths eyes following his movements,

“Can you walk?” She tilted her head,

“Yeah, just need to remember where my legs are” Jack grinned through shock still using his staff as a crutch,

“The hut is not far…” Death’s eyes turned from Jack to a set of weatherworn and wet steps that carved their way against the dark coastal wall,

“You couldn’t just teleport us into the hut?” Jack tried to hold back the whine as he straightened up further. The atmosphere was unusual to him, balmy and humid – it didn’t agree with his frosty nature,

“While phasing my form can sometimes be seen by those…. More sensitive; I do not wish to take that risk... especially in this circumstance” Death turned her attention back to Jack, the younger spirit showing obvious signs of fatigue – she was actually relieved it was nothing more than a weakening of energy. Unbeknownst to Jack Death had never actually teleported another with her, she had been unsure of whether Jack would survive at all – that in itself left a terrible guilt in the pit of her stomach, “Jack you are sure of this?”

“Yup! No problem!” Jack grinned before blasting a small wave of frost and cold about himself, the lowering temperatures obviously more agreeable “Let’s get this over with” Jack sighed, his energy coming back bit by bit.

They’d ascended the coastal steps in silence and on foot, oddly. Jack had started at a gentle hover but landed to his feet when he noticed Death lagging behind on foot. He was aware she could perform a similar floating movement to him so assumed her decidedly mortal method was due to her anxiety. The salty wind provided a slightly bracing feeling to Jacks skin, the zephyr and his resolve to see Death finish the killer they were currently hunting kept his energy levels at a surprising high despite the teleporting and uncomfortable humidity. Jack scratched at the well-worn blue of his hoody, picking at the small clusters of ice that clung to the cotton – he hated silence, even more so when someone was with him but the silence now was needed by both of them. The small cloaked figure of Death quietly padded along in front of him and he stared fixedly at the black material covering her head. When he’d reunited with Death on that rooftop he’d expected the older Guardian to attempt the same detailed explorations as before; expecting to be practically pounced upon – however that perhaps was fuelled by ego and hormones. If Death was holding back pent up need to touch she was very good at hiding it, it made him want it more which altogether confused him tenfold; wasn’t it touch that he feared? He hadn’t felt this sort of excitement in centuries.

Death abruptly stopped in front of Jack, the younger spirit nearly tripping into the smaller frame. To their right was a crudely carved stone archway the ground behind it appeared to be a mix of dirt, stones and dried grass. Further than that Jack could see twinkling lights in the darkness some closer and visibly that of candle and lamp light. Death turned to look at Jack, her eyes dark and lifeless. The moment was silent, Jack licked his lower lip, waiting for a question to reply to but nothing came. He took in the pallid skin, bruised lips and sunken eyes and for a split second Death was no longer with him, the girl was a walking corpse with no mind or intent. Jacks mouth slackened but no words came out and his stomach curdled – he was terrified - but within a flash Death was back, her eyes no longer centred on him but lowered to his chest, her lips closed as she gulped and parted once more before she turned to walk through the archway. The Guardian was left confused and unsure of what he’d just witnessed, was this how Death showed her fear? To distance herself from reality? Jack made his feet move once more, catching up to Death before she disappeared into the darkness.

 

They had reached a small cottage, its coastal facing wall wet and battered by the weather. Jack stood behind Death who held the brass door knob tightly in her small hand. She flexed her knuckles over the cold metal, the tug of Fate hideously painful now.

“Jack, whatever you see in there, whatever you hear, smell, taste you must do nothing” Death voice was stern, instructive and odd coming from the form she inhabited,

“Yeah, sure” Jack replied, eyebrows knotting,

“You grip that anger and focus it all into doing nothing” Death reiterated, she knew what was in there and she knew what Jack might do – what she’d forced herself not to do, until now. The Fates had been kind to her. She gulped and twisted the knob, the stench of sweat, fish and oil suddenly assaulting her. Jack stayed close, feeling suddenly defensive for the older spirit as soon as the yellow of the lamp light touched her hand. He clenched his fist against the wood of his staff, tendrils of ice curling across its surface. The smell was a combination he’d never come across and would stay with him for the rest of time. Fisherman’s nets and glass orbs were scattered, hung above on the ceiling the lamp light casting mutated shadows and turning the colours of the orbs sickly variants of their former selves. Meals old and new scattered the table and areas of the floor, cast aside along with mugs and bottles. Crosses adorned the hearth above and unlit fire, along with books, their spines bent and broken. The sound of muffled shouting cut through the silence and Death headed for a partially open doorway Jack with in tail. They descended stairs, a poorly contructed bunker of a basement, earth and sand compacting into shoddy walls lined with wire netting. Walls lined with boxes and more random oddments. A new smell accompanied the old and Jack involuntarily stiffened from a metallic and sickly odour. Death held out her arm to stop Jack, his feet clumsily halting on the old wooden stairs as his eyes centred on a scene that made his blood halt its pace.

A man, skin pulled tight over muscle and bone crouched rocking and holding tightly the arms of a young girl, not much older than the child whom Death had become. He was weeping along with the girl, bruising already appearing around her arms and blood seeping from her lips. He was mumbling frantically in Italian while she begged, weakly fighting against his strength, her voice high pitched and thick with saliva and hysteria. His head was bowed and it almost appeared like he was feverously apologising to the small girl. A collection of words spilled from the girls mouth and the man frantically rose from his crouched position as if wounded by the words, flinging his hands away and sending the girl sprawling. Jack instinctively moved to defend but Death held firm,

“Don’t you dare” Death whispered harshly, feeling the anger rolling off of the younger guardian. The man circled, hands gripping his hairless scalp as he wailed, repeating the same verse over and over. He ran back to the girl who screamed in pure terror, he was back on his knees, his hand now gripping the sides of her face, one thumb rubbing her cheek in mock tenderness. The mad man’s voice had become softer, his hands moving closer to the girl’s throat,

“Hes gonna kill her!” Jack begged, “Death you’ve got to do it now!” Death shook her head, her hand still blocking his path,

“I’m here for him not her” She replied, the little girl’s life was long and prosperous in her mind. But death silently panicked, where was the tool of this monsters demise? Something horrid crept over her thoughts as the sound of choking suddenly grasped both of their attentions, the killer now held the girl by the neck his body rocking over hers as she smacked and tore fruitlessly at his skin. His words rolled repetitively once more in an attempt to sooth the girl as he continued his hold. Death gasped, suddenly knew her mistake, why no one was coming to the girls aid,

"Jack..." A pained and weak whimper emerged from the girl and hit Jack like a tornado as he launched himself past Death in order to protect the dying child. Deaths voice was all but nothing against the roar of anger in his head. With uncapped fury he sent a slice of vicious ice and snow hurtling towards the monster, the wave slamming the sinewy for against the wire mesh. He heard the wet crack of skin and bone, remembered that noise from when he'd first seen the fighting in the trenches, stumbling across death in all its glory and running as far away as possible. Another jet of ice fumed from his staff the man wailed and twisted inhumanly. Jack continued his assault until he stood mere feet away from killer, red mixing with the jet of white. He heard the man scream and upon a moment’s pause to swing he knew the killer had seen him the fear in the man’s eyes made him stutter, _‘I don’t want people to fear me…’_

“JACK!” Deaths voice broke through, her hand gripping his shoulder tightly, firmly jerking him back from his attack, “Jack!” He blinked, dropping his staff as if it had burnt him. Suddenly aware of the blur of red below him, tears unshed in his eyes quickly formed to frost before flecking away. His skin was stiff as patterns of frost wound its way about his skin, subsiding already from the plummet of power.

“Dea- I?....” He turned to see Death, her eyes wide and unblinking, focused entirely on him. She did not speak but simply pushed him away, shielding him. His hands trembled fear and adrenaline as he apprehensively took in the sight of the once killer. Covered by a thin film of frost and ice and leaning heavily against the wire mesh the monster bled thin streams of red that seeped into the more compacted areas of snow. He shook and still mumbled his chant, eyes weak and trying desperately to focus. His arms lay limply, skin cut to ribbons and bones obviously broken while his chest heaved heavily, blood gushing at every inhale. Jacks temperature drained impossibly low, he'd done this and he didn’t even feel tired,

“Sophia… Sophia, Sophia….” The dying man’s voice cracked, his head tilted towards Deaths current position, seemingly recognising the girl Death possessed, “Angelo…. Angelo…” Jack heard Deaths sharp intake of breath and the familiar crunch of ice as she stepped closer,

“vedrete mai angeli….” Death whispered coldly and Jack stepped back in unease as he saw the form of Death suddenly grow taller, tendrils of black gripping hold of the man’s limbs as he began to scream hysterically. Death lowered closer and the man’s screams quickened before abruptly cutting out. The form beneath went limp, Death appearing to remain crouched, Jack felt sick as he gingerly picked up his staff staring at it like it had betrayed him. He turned to see the child still limply sprawled on the stone and cautiously moved to kneel at her side. Her neck was bruising, large fingerprints visible against her olive skin. He watched the soft rise and fall of her chest and breathed out a shaky sigh, amongst terrifying himself and most likely losing Death as a friend he’d managed to save her,

“This wasn’t your fault” Jack jumped as he felt the tickling wisp of black fabric against his feet. Deaths voice had changed; it was something he’d never heard before. It was neither male nor female, mixed with what could only be described as a liquid veil,

“If you hadn’t noticed the ice kind of suggests, yeah it was my fault” Jack replied, hating himself for trying to twist this into something light hearted,

“No Jack” Death sighed, an odd noise from the current voice, “I see now it was the Fates decision that I bring you here…. You were the tool of his destruction”

“Yeah, I’m a tool alright” Jack tried to laugh but his chest hurt too much, “Death, I killed someone…”

“Yes you did” The tone of indifference irritated the younger Guardian,

“What happens now, do I get stripped of my Guardianship? Does North appear out of nowhere, kick my ass back to curb and stamp a great big ‘Not Worthy’ on my forehead?” Jack hung his head, his attempt at humour temporarily holding back tears,

“Nothing happens Jack, you continue as you were. You saved this girl, you are still a guardian”

“But I’m the Guardian of Fun! I don’t kill people! I don’t do _that_!” Jack spun around and pointed his staff violently to the twisted and frozen corpse,

“You did what needed to be done; this is what was meant to be, it was fated to be” Deaths voice was soothing, Jack felt out of breath his eyes lingering on the body before focusing on anything but Death,

“Fate can suck it…” Jack muttered,

“Jack…” the younger Guardian felt suddenly enveloped by a warm canopy and opened eyes he hadn’t realised he’d shut. For all intent and purpose Death was hugging him and within that moment Jack realised Death currently resided in no physical form, what held him was a dark black shroud, concealed within something very similar to the aurora borealis. Energy emanated from the multi-coloured waves of light and Jack closed his eyes once more, frustrations and held back hysteria melting away. The sensation was odd, it was not touch, and he did not feel fear from it. He felt nothing solid against him only a warmth which unlike the humidity of the continent was pleasant, soothing,

“Keep this between us okay… the other Guardians _can’t_ find out” Jack mumbled, calming more so as he heard a slight cough from the child,

“You are safe with me…” Death replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations 
> 
> "angelo" - Angel
> 
> "vedrete mai angeli" - 'You will never see angels'


	10. Pep Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, apologies in abundance, yeah its been a while. Will try and update although I'm as scatty as a cat. 
> 
> Chapter not completely grammar checked because its half three in the morning.

The embrace had lasted longer than Jack had intended to allow, drifting him off into a semi sleep. The ethereal arms and fingers slowly removed themselves and left Jack undisturbed and dozing; exhausted on the worn dirt and hessian of the cellar floor.

A delicate icy pattern had woven itself within the textures of the floor from Jacks presence; halting its travel as it got closer to the dwindling fire in a crudely made hearth. The ever present rhythm of the waves grew unsteady; a storm was rolling towards the coast. The first crash of thunder removed Jack from his dreamless sleep. Upon opening his eyes he found himself alone and his mind muddy with confusion at his surroundings. The air was warm and unwelcome, the storm currently raging outside doing nothing to quell the interior heat. When he turned to take in the room he found a tangled heap of netting and sacks against the wall.

A rock hit heavy against the bottom of his stomach causing him to begin a more frantic search for Death and the little girl, had she survived? His eyes darted about the room, finding no one; his eyes were drawn to his faithful wooden rook – propped against one of the earthen walls. He crawled over towards his staff, feeling immediately calmed but none the less confused as to the events during his sleep.

He drew his legs and feet slowly under him, balancing upon his haunches his staff now close to his body he pushed against it with his forehead feeling a resonance only he could sense coming from the wood. A shaky breath left his lips and with a resolute grunt he shifted to standing, the slight dizziness that came with it required more support from his trusty rook. He was still in the dreaded bunker – that much was sure- however the place now felt alien, as if the events that occurred had never taken place here. The only evidence was a mass of thick netting in the corner that he had previously spied – most likely Deaths haphazard attempt at hiding the remains before leaving  - thawing blood was slowly dying the lower hessian and dirty floor a brownish red. The Guardian froze at the mess in front of him, no longer able to believe that he himself had created it. The dark recesses of his mind brought up mutterings of Pitch and the piercing, ‘told you so’ remarks that he would say about his actions…

He had been so angry, so blind to what his body was doing. But a child had been in danger – he reasoned - and that had been the only mantra flowing through his mind. This man had had his chance and squandered it, he had taken so much and given nothing, taken away lives that had so much promise and had yet to experience anything. His only magnet to his resolve was that the girl he saved would live on and be loved; he just hoped the experience did not affect her for too long.

A second clap of thunder shook Jack from his troubled thoughts; he needed to get out of this space before he started getting really dark. With one last look around the room he made for the stairs, his movements still sluggish from the humid, wet air, he needed to feel the crisp winter against his skin once more.

Daylight flooded his senses as he headed north, the homing beacon feeling of that being the coldest place he knew. The younger Guardian hadn’t decided if he would visit North yet, the events that had taken place all to fresh in his mind and sometimes he wondered if North could actually see peoples thoughts, he seemed to read Jack pretty well and right now he felt like he had trouble blazing in neon lights all around him. The vast ocean gave way to striking glaciers, their pointed spires glittering against the sun. Jack felt his mind clear, the arctic air whisking away the murky emotions that still clung to him. The spirit spied a faster current and leapt upon it immediately, the channels tickling the underside of his feet and the pads of his fingers seemingly understanding of his worries and working their hardest to make him forget. Following the current he glided up to one of the tallest glaciers, skiing down it in a zigzag. The sharp tingle against his feet burned at his core as he reached the base, slowing to a stop before the plummet into the deep blue depths of the sea. Gracefully he floated into a sit, his feet hanging lazily over the edge of the ice, far from touching the water but still feeling the icy vapour that lifted from it. Jack sighed, feeling more himself and ready to win the next snowball fight he started but… not quite yet, for now he wanted to enjoy the silence of the ice, the creaking of the giants the only noise for miles around.

He dropped against the snow with a gentle thud, his hands delving deep into his pockets and enjoying the sensation the soft fleece brought. His staff lay beneath his head, the slender form digging into his scalp but only comforting him that it was there rather than creating an annoying headache. His thoughts drifted, first to Jamie – missing his voice and his smile, he needed to see him soon – recently he’d wanted to organise some kind of meet up between Jamie, his friends and the Guardians they’d so bravely stood with to fight the Guardian of Fear. It had been just about over a year since that amazing night and there had been no anniversary celebration. Not that he thought it needed one, no, stuff like that was lame but… a meet up did sound fun, the more the merrier when it came to having fun! With that thought his mind wandered to the Guardians, he nibbled at his lip, trying to avoid the worry that he knew was desperate to surface, would they find out? Even if not of that night but of his friendship with Death… would North be mad, would they reject him. If so he couldn’t deal with that and why did his head hate him so much currently? Of course, that thought process then led to Death and he groaned outwardly as his stomach gave an almighty lurch, adding to the already roiling sensation it had created from his previous thoughts,

“Why do I do this!?” he grumbled, “I was fine! Everything was cool…. Literally! And then I had to go and make friends… and then make more friends… I was fine being _alone_!” He rolled over onto his side, curling his knees up. His staff now relocated to underneath his neck, making it feel more absent until he began picking at the wooden notches, “Oh wait…. I wasn’t…”

The wind once again picked up, almost begging him to get up and have fun once more. He needed to, he thought, stopping still only seemed to bring overthinking and worry. Staying still was what had led him to see Death in the first place; it had led him to being touched, feeling things that he had no need to feel. His was an eternal teenager, since when did he need any more than selfish wants and to make trouble?

“Since when did I want more…” His hand had stopped its worrying, the wood now displaying more gentle curls of ice from his fingertips, the patterns hopping happily around and down onto the translucent ice, seeking more surface. The image presented an annoying metaphor which Jack rolled over from in a scowl; he needed something more to do than just playing around by himself. His mind suddenly focused on the school he’d left some time ago, the playing field that was just perfect for a snowball fight or a sequence of equally chubby snow angels. A grin spread across his face as more ideas came to mind and with a new found resolve he shot into the sky, a goal now clear in his mind.

-

In the coming weeks, Jack seemed to work even harder to create the best snow forts, precarious icy paths and snowy pranks than he felt he ever had. He couldn’t pin point the reasoning, however he hadn’t really noticed it until one night when he crossed paths with Tooth and her babies, the little versions of herself swooning in adoration and crowding him when the noticed him in the distance. Jack yelped at the feeling of many tiny bodies fluttering around him, the primary one, Baby Tooth his trusted companion on his bravest of journeys snuggling up close to his face and squeaking a happy sigh,

“Girls! Girls! Give him space, you’re as bad as me!” she scolded, almost swimming through the flurry of little birds, rolling her eyes as she finally met Jacks awkward gaze, “Sorry Jack, I myself may have come to respect your boundaries….” She giggled, trying very hard not to check out his canines her eyes widening upon realising what she was doing, “Kind of… but err, these monsters haven’t!” her voice raised as more of the little creatures suddenly took an interest in Jacks teeth and began clambering higher. Jacks eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to shake the tiny investigators off but to no avail. A loud ‘ _peep_ ’ shrilled from a whistle now held in Tooth’s mouth that drew away all of the fairy’s apart from of course Little Tooth who had decided to fall asleep in Jacks hood.

“Go! Mush ladies! There’s work to be done!” she scolded, the fairy’s all but sulking as they floated away to go about their collecting, she sighed as she watched them looking back to Jack with eyes still wide and hands planted firmly over his mouth, “Its ok now Jack, sorry about that – they don’t see you often enough” she winked, hinting carefully at his recent lack of visitations, “Oh Jack you can take your hands away now” she smirked, shaking her head,

“ _No_ ” he muffled beneath his fingers, “ _You’re gonna do it to!”_

“Really?!” She gasped in mocking hurt, “You seriously think I have that little restraint!”

“You were doing it just then!!” Jack squeaked between his fingers, eyebrows raising to meet his pitch,

“Totally was not” Tooth replied, although now avoiding eye contact. She looked back to Jack quickly to see an unconvinced expression wrinkling his features, “… Okay maybe a little,” She admitted, “But I’m getting better you have to admit”

“ _Yeah I guess…_ ” Jack muttered, rolling his eyes and hovering down to meet her eye level, hands still protectively sealed against his mouth, ” _Sooo… Yeeah, I haven’t been avoiding you at all before you th-_ “

“Seriously Jack move your hands, I can’t understand a word your saying” Tooth folded her arms, attempting to be nonplussed by Jacks overacting eyebrows in replacement of his hidden mouth,

“Oh yeah, guess it’s just instinct around you” He teased, “Never did like dentists”

“Jaaaack, I’m not a Den-“ she pouted,

“I know, I know” Jack grinned, “She’s gonna need to start paying rent if she’s going to stay in there,” Jack motioned towards the bundle of feathers that was nestled in his hood, a soft chirping sound coming every so often,

“I’ll get her out in a minute,” Tooth smiled, watching her little one, “Jack, its been ages since we talked. Why don’t you come to see me anymore?” she queried, worry lacing the tone. Jacks heart thumped hard, had Sandy told her? He really doubted it, Tooth worried even with no ammunition,

“Oh you know, kids are so hard to entertain these days, got to keep those games going!” he grinned, but Tooth wasn’t fooled,

“You’re trying to hard Jack” Tooth replied, arms folding,

“huh?” Jack was dumbfounded,

“You’re doing too much; these kids don’t run like you, don’t think like you and they don’t get back up straight away after they tire” Jack didn’t like where this was going, “Your running yourself and the kids you make games for into the ground, you’re running me ragged! Do you know how overworked I’ am already without more teeth being smashed out of gums by your supercharged snowballs? You’re really going to hurt someone if you keep on like this. You don’t manage the games you only start them Jack…. What’s wrong?”

Tooth had been watching him, or at least one of her little mimics had. Had he been that focused that he hadn’t sensed her? He was having fun right? And so were the kids, sure sometimes he’d thrown a snowball a bit too hard or put a bit too much ice on top of a porch roof but it just made it that much funnier, “There’s nothing wrong Tooth”, Jack replied coolly, keeping his eyes trained to Little Tooth instead of the bigger version,

“Yes there is” Tooth argued bluntly,

“No there isn’t”

“Yes there is”

“No there isn’t”

“Yes... there... is”

“No theres-“

“Jack! Please,  I care about you and your not like this” Jack could see the hurt in her eyes, he was rejecting her like he feared they all would do to him. She was only helping, Little Tooth stirred in her make shift bed from the static between them,

“Fine… but don’t tell the others” this was sounding awfully familiar he thought. But at least Sandy hadn’t said anything to her; otherwise she wouldn’t be as tooth and nail as she was. “I did something bad…” _great way to start dumbass_ , he thought to himself noticing Tooth instantly stiffen,  “No wait, I met someone and then I did something bad”

“That doesn’t sound any better, Jack” Tooth’s eyes were wide and her folded arms came closer to her body,

“I know, but I’m really bad at explaining things so just go with me on this okay?” A nod came from the vibrant Guardian and he exhaled a breath desperate to leave, “This someone is really hurt, has been alone for like… a really long time … and then I meet them and we start having snowball fights and jumping off of lighthouses and its really fun… and then something weird happens and I feel like I’m going to be sick and they pretty much jump my bones, but not in that way!” he noticed Tooth was desperate to speak out, her discipline at keeping quiet surprised him,

“So… after that I think we pretty much avoided each other for a while but my heads messed up and I don’t know what to do… we meet up again, I kind of forced myself to find them. We get into some pretty messed up stuff and I really, _really_ screwed up… but now, I don’t know whether I can go back to see them again because I don’t know what they’ll do and I’m not sure if I even know what I’ll do but whenever I’m not doing something I just think about it and how I screwed up and what they’re thinking and, and….” Jack stops, taking a breath just to steady himself and looks to Tooth who seems wrapped up in thought, “Tooth please tell me I haven’t broke you…” Jack groans. He’d not told her everything, or even any specifics and that fact would probably come back to hurt him some day but at that moment just the emotion from his memories ate at him, he didn’t think he could handle Tooth’s reaction to the cold, honest truth.

“No… no you haven’t” The older Guardian smiles warmly, snapping Jack out of his whirring of thoughts, “You see, I told you something was wrong” her smile is far too proud for her own good “But I think _wrong_ is not the correct word”

“Huh?” Jacks drained to his reserves, Tooth’s cryptic response to much for his brain,  

“If I’m correct – and in most cases I am – I believe that your feelings towards this _someone_ go far beyond friendship. To be fair I’m downright envious of this _someone”_ her smile belies her mention of jealousy, “My dear Jack, you need to speak to them, snowballs aren’t going to be the answer to this problem. Neither is slugging is to the nearest poor soul”

“I don’t think I can, did I mention the screwing up part?” Jack rubbed the back of his head, feeling like there was a hole there that all the mush formally known as his brain had seeped from,

“Yeah you did, several times, but stuffs not going to be mended unless you go out there and do it yourself” she watched the younger Guardian fidget anxiously, how much trouble had be gotten himself into this time, “I’m sure they’re in just as much of a state as you are right now” Jack blanched slightly at that comment, imagining Deaths version of overworking as near extinction, if anything would spur him into action that would. However that wasn’t what made him move, the underlying feeling of warmth spread through his being but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable,  

“I’ve got to go… thanks Tooth, sorry for being a jerk” He tried on an apologetic smile, receiving a shake of the head from the older Guardian,

“Oh Jack, you act as if I don’t know you” she sighed, gesturing to the green-blue ball, “I’ll be taking her back I think, before she wakes and cries a river” Jack moved closer hesitantly to let Tooth scoop the little fairy out of its confines. About to take off he felt the pull of a gentle hand on his,

“Jack, don’t let them stop you, you know what you want and you take it…” she ruffled her feathers, noticing Jack stiffen at her touch, “Right go on, before I start inspecting those molars of yours”, she winked,

“Take care of Little Tooth for me!” Jack grinned, shaking off the anxiety of contact before rocketing off on the nearest channel of wind. Tooth smiled fondly, stroking the pudgy mound of feathers in her hand as it snoozed.


End file.
